Veritas Oracle
by BajaB
Summary: A series of Vignettes involving possibly the second most powerful but underused magic in the HP universe, Veritaserum. AU after GOF. Rating increased to T due to a bit of implied sexual situations, attempted suicide, abuse, and other nasty stuff.
1. The Diggory Factor

**_This is the first in a series of Vignettes involving one of the most powerful but underused magic in the HP universe: Veritaserum._**

* * *

_Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe and all related materials are the property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury and Warner Brothers. I am in no way affiliated with JKR, Bloomsbury or Warner Brothers, and use their materials without their permission or knowledge._

* * *

**The Diggory Factor**

"_The truth. It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution."_

- Albus Dumbledore - The Philosopher's Stone

"_It is Veritaserum - a Truth Potion so powerful that three drops would have you spilling your innermost secrets for this entire class to hear." _

- Severus Snape - The Goblet of Fire

Despite the debilitating effect of weeks of Cedric-murder nightmares, Harry was still a light sleeper. At the first hint of something unusual, he was prepared to rip the wand from under his pillow and fire off the disarming spell.

That was when he discovered he was in a full body-bind.

Panicked visions of Voldemort coming to torture him filled his suddenly alert mind. If capable of moving, he would shake in terror. As it was, all he could do was breathe rapidly and feel his heart beating wildly.

Out of the corner his eye, Harry watched helplessly as a dim figure stepped from the deepest shadows and walked calmly towards him. Any second he expected to see the telltale green flash of the killing curse, and doubted his mother's magic would help him this time.

When the figure raised its wand, Harry was mentally screaming.

"Lumos!"

A white light filled the room, chasing the shadows back to their corners and blinding Harry with its unexpected brightness.

"Hello, Harry," said a calm voice that most definitely did not belong to Voldemort.

Blinking away the glare, Harry's eyes eventually adjusted to a half-familiar face looming over him.

"So good to see you again," said a scruffy looking Amos Diggory, with a slightly manic smile.

Confused, Harry could do nothing except watch as Mr. Diggory leaned over him, wobbling unsteadily. The foul stench of alcohol on his breath would have made Harry gag, if he could have.

"I am going to release you, well, your head at least, but don't bother screaming or calling for help. I've already silenced the room, and guess who your guard is tonight? That's right, me!"

He raised his wand again, but hesitated.

"Oh, hang on. I have a little surprise for you first. That's right; nearly forgot. How about a little drink then, eh Harry?"

He took a shaky step backwards and removed a half-empty bottle from a pocket of his robes. Fumbling with the lid while trying to keep his wand up, and swaying precariously, he finally managed to open the bottle.

"Now!' he said, staggering back over to Harry. "What shall we drink to? Oh, I know. How about we drink to Cedric?

"To Cedric!" he shouted, lifting the bottle up in a salute. "The finest son a man could wish for."

Then he downed a significant gulp of the drink, spluttering slightly when he finished.

"But you are too young for this, aren't you, Harry?" he slurred. "What are you, fourteen? Fifteen? Only a few years younger than my Ced, aren't you? Well, no matter. I've got a very special drink for you right here."

Harry watched in growing anxiety as Diggory fumbled through his pockets, finally removing a small crystal vial filled with a clear liquid.

"Here we go, Harry. A special drink for a special boy - nothing but the best for the boy-who-outlived my Cedric, eh?

"Do you know what this is? It's Veritaserum, the truth drug, taken from your nasty Professor Snape just last night. How about that then? Special enough for you, is it? I thought so."

Uncorking the vial with a loud pop, Diggory roughly grabbed Harry's unresisting head and prised his mouth open.

"Now, let's find out exactly what happened to my boy, then," he mumbled, pouring a lot more than three drops into Harry's open mouth.

Harry tried to spit it out, but his body wouldn't cooperate. He tried twisting his head, and not swallowing, but in the end, the burning potion made its way in.

A hazy, unreal feeling swept over Harry. He could still think, but he had the utmost desire to answer any question asked of him. He knew there was no resisting, unlike the Imperius curse that he could throw off fairly easily.

"Now then," said Diggory, dragging the rickety chair from the desk to sit next to Harry's immobile head. "How about you tell me what happened to my boy then?"

Harry tired to start speaking, but the bind held him still. He wanted to answer, needed to answer, but the spell stopped him. With increasing desperation, Harry futilely fought against the magic.

"Oops," said Diggory. "Sorry about that."

For a moment the man looked confused. He obviously wanted to remove the curse, but didn't want to turn off the light from his wand. Eventually he managed to cast a different spell, one that caused a floating ball of white fire to appear above them, and then he partially removed the body bind, freeing Harry's head.

"Peter Pettigrew murdered Cedric with the Killing Curse," said Harry, the moment he could speak.

The relief of being able to say it washed over Harry like a cool breeze when hadn't realised he was hot. Not answering caused an almost physical pain.

"Peter Pettigrew? Isn't he the one Black murdered," asked Diggory.

"No. Pettigrew faked his own death and framed Sirius Black," said Harry.

"Why?"

"Pettigrew was my parents' Secret Keeper. He betrayed them. Sirius hunted him down and was about to kill him when Peter faked his death and framed Sirius."

Diggory shook his head to clear it, obviously a bit confused.

"Why did Pettigrew kill Cedric?" he asked, getting back on track.

"Voldemort ordered him to," said Harry.

Diggory sobered, the truth striking him like a slap. Whatever his reasoning for not believing Dumbledore and Harry previously, there was no denying it now.

"Why? What did my Ced do to him?" mumbled Diggory, mostly to himself.

"Because he wasn't needed," said Harry bluntly. "Voldemort called him a spare and ordered Pettigrew to kill him. He only wanted me alive."

"Why you?" sobbed Diggory bitterly. "What's so special about you? You are nothing, just an average school kid. You aren't even that great at Quidditch – my Cedric was better!"

"Voldemort wanted me alive so that, when he used my blood in the ritual to give him back a body, he would have some of the ancient Magic my mother used to protect me. He wanted to make himself immune to it, since I used it against him in first year."

"First year? You faced him in your first year? What are you talking about, what happened?"

"Voldemort possessed Professor Quirrell in order to steal the Philosopher's Stone from Hogwarts. My friends and I tried to stop him, but he ended up fighting me alone. When I touched Quirrell, my hands burnt him. I drove Voldemort's spirit out and he ran away back to Albania."

Diggory was opened mouthed.

"Sweet Merlin," he said. "Why didn't anybody know about this?"

"Professor Dumbledore kept it quiet," said Harry.

"Why? Why didn't he want everybody to know Voldemort wasn't dead?"

"He didn't want Voldemort's followers to hear about it," said Harry, surprised at his own words. "Otherwise they might have gone looking for him."

"But they did anyway," said Diggory. "And now we are completely unprepared. The Ministry isn't admitting he is back. They told me it was a tragic accident and you were somehow to blame. Merlin lad, they are spreading gossip about you, saying all this is lies made up by you to get more attention. Why didn't Dumbledore prepare us?"

"Because I am the only one that can destroy Voldemort," said Harry, again completely shocked as words he had no control over fell from his lips.

Where was this coming from? This wasn't just something Harry deep down believed, was it? Diggory was obviously thinking along the same lines.

"How do you know that?"

"I heard my parents discussing a prophesy before they died," said Harry, shocked yet again.

"A prophesy? What prophesy?"

"The prophesy made by Professor Sybil Trelawney before I was born. It says '_The one with the power to vanquish the- Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies … and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not … and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives … the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.' _

"It could have applied to either Neville Longbottom or me, but Voldemort thought it meant me and came after us. By 'marking' me with this scar, he selected which of us he now believes is his only true opponent._"_

Diggory sat back in his chair in amazement, obviously fighting to overcome the alcohol muddling his brain and understand what he was hearing. It was minutes before a frown creased his forehead and he asked another question.

"How could you remember this? You were only a baby when your parents died. Nobody remembers that far back," said Amos.

"No consciously, but the Veritaserum makes it impossible for me not to tell the truth if I know it, even if I don't realise I know it."

Diggory sat silently, apparently pondering the words of the prophesy. He even had Harry repeat it a few times to get it straight. Harry's own mind was boggling at the implications, and not just of his newly revealed, predetermined fate.

"Either must die at the hand of the other. You can't kill him if you are dead. What can it mean?" Diggory asked himself out loud.

"Voldemort must kill me before I can kill him," said Harry without hesitation.

It was a chilling idea.

"Nobody can come back from the dead, can they?" asked Diggory, sounding hopeful.

"No, but if Voldemort hits me with a killing curse, I probably won't properly die, then I will kill him."

"What do you mean you won't properly die? It was good enough to kill my Cedric. Why wouldn't it work on you?"

"I have a piece of Voldemort's soul inside of me. The killing curse will destroy it, 'killing me', but I won't stay dead because I will still have my own soul."

"A piece of his soul? What do you mean, 'A piece of his soul'?"

"He has split his soul into several pieces. The night he tried to kill me, my mother's sacrifice protected me, but when the Avada curse rebounded, it accidentally split another piece of his soul off. That piece lodged itself inside me."

"Sweet Merlin," said Diggory, absently taking another swig from his half-forgotten bottle. "And Dumbledore knows this?"

"He suspects it. I gave proof Voldemort split his soul two years ago when I destroyed a book that was draining Ginny Weasley's life force in an attempt to recreate a sixteen-year-old version of him."

"How do you know then, if Dumbledore only suspects?"

"My scar is a link to Voldemort's mind. I can read his thoughts, see what he sees, and hear what he hears."

"You can read you-know-who's mind?"

"Yes, but I didn't know it consciously until now. It happens on a subconscious level, although sometimes, when he is particularly emotional, I am aware of it, sometimes even seeing out of his eyes while I am asleep."

A cunning gleam appeared in Diggory's eyes.

"What is the bastard planning then?"

"He is going to lay low and build his power base. The Ministry is doing his job for him, pretending there is no problem. He will use this to his advantage and undermine every part of the Ministry itself, eventually taking complete control. He will establish a reign of terror designed to last millennia.

"Once he has complete control of the wizarding world, he will wipe out or enslave all Muggles and non-humans. He will take revenge for his Muggle father's perceived betrayal of his witch mother by destroying all Muggles and Muggle born, but first he wants to get a hold of the whole prophesy.

"Currently he only has a portion, given to him by Severus Snape, and even though he cannot die while parts of his soul still exist, he is afraid."

"Where are the other parts of his soul?" asked Diggory intently.

"One is in the Snake he keeps by his side, Nagini. One is inside the Locket of Salazar Slytherin, hidden in a cave he visited in his youth. One is inside the Cup of Helga Hufflepuff, in Bellatrix LaStrange's Gringotts vault. One is in the Peverell family ring buried under the old Gaunt house in Little Hangleton. One is in the Diadem of Ravenclaw, inside the Room of Requirement in Hogwarts. One is inside me, although he doesn't realise it, and the last piece is inside the body recreated by the ritual Pettigrew performed after murdering Cedric."

Diggory took a sharp intake of breath at Cedric's name, as if he had temporarily forgotten why he was here, only to have his face slapped with it when he was unprepared.

"Where is the black-hearted, half-blood bastard hiding now then?"

"He has set up a base in Malfoy Manor," said Harry, his voice croaking with dryness.

The revelations and the harsh magical truth drug were taking their toll on him, and he was starting to feel a bit dizzy. His eyes kept losing focus and were watering heavily.

"Are you okay?" asked Diggory automatically.

Even drunk, he was still a decent man.

"No," answered Harry. "I am suffering from years of malnutrition and poor medical attention, I've dozens of injuries that have never been healed properly, and the overdose of the truth drug is putting a huge strain on my already suffering system.

"I haven't had a decent night's sleep since Cedric was murdered in front of me, and I am currently completely cut off from my friends. The lack of meaningful letters and informative communication is driving me mad, the piece of Voldemort's soul in my head is getting stronger and affecting me more, making my emotions quite unstable, and puberty has been rearing its ugly head lately, messing up my already shaky psyche.

"On top of all of that, the emotional abuses I have suffered at the hands of my hateful relatives for my whole life, along with the flip-flopping whims of the magical world, have severely affected my mental health."

Diggory was almost as astounded as Harry at the list of ailments.

"Anything I can do?" asked Diggory, again more out of habit than anything else.

"You can give me the antidote to the Veritaserum, get me out of this blasted house, and go to Dumbledore with everything you have discovered tonight.

"Using the murder of your son, Dumbledore's backing, and some of the information you now have as leverage, you can oust Fudge from power and take over the Ministry yourself before Voldemort can make any great headway.

"By subjecting Voldemort's known followers to Veritaserum questioning, like Lucius Malfoy and all of the others named at the resurrection, you can destroy the old support base and remove most of his political and monetary power. With the Ministry and the people behind you, you can debunk the false Blood Purity beliefs and rally all non-humans and humans to work together to stop another war.

"This should marginalise the Dark Lord and reduce his threat to manageable levels.

"In secret, you can aid Dumbledore to find and destroy the Horcruxes, making Voldemort mortal, so that when I eventually face him again, I'll have a chance to destroy him – if I survive the killing curse he must hit me with. If I don't, you will still be able to destroy him since your actions will be a direct result of my advice – effectively 'by my hand'."

Diggory sat silently for a long time, apparently pondering Harry's words.

"That," he finally said, fumbling in his pocket to produce a different vial, "is an absolutely sterling idea."

**Finite.**

Once again, thanks to AFC for help and suggestions, especially Zanymuggle and japanese_jew, and also Someguyfawkes who spotted that I forgot the ring!


	2. Love's Truth

"_The truth. It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution."_

- Albus Dumbledore - The Philosopher's Stone

"_It is Veritaserum - a Truth Potion so powerful that three drops would have you spilling your innermost secrets for this entire class to hear." _

- Severus Snape - The Goblet of Fire

* * *

A summer like no other ever seen in the Wizarding world preceded Harry Potter's return to Hogwarts for his fifth year of magical education.

After discovering the magical truth drug, Veritaserum, had some totally unexpected side affects when used on Harry, Amos Diggory launched an unprecedented challenge against the Minister of Magic's authority, and quickly took the top job away from him.

Using the secrets and truths gained by forcing Voldemort's supposedly legitimate followers, like Lucius Malfoy, to undergo Veritaserum questioning, Amos did more than just replace the previous Minister; he got Fudge locked up for a dozen years for corruption and incompetence.

Unstoppable access to Voldemort's mind through Harry's cursed scar gave the revitalised Ministry an unbeatable advantage and stopped a potential war in its tracks. The Dark Lord's supporters were decimated by the purge, their plans and secrets ripped from them and exposed to the world before the Dementors fed.

Voldemort himself was still on the loose, but his every action was hamstrung by the Auror's inside knowledge. Several times the Dark Lord was almost captured, and his conjured body would have perished repeatedly if it was natural flesh and blood rather than a magical construct. Paranoia pushed him further and further into the realm of utter insanity, making it impossible to make any headway in his bid to rule the world.

Yet, despite the Daily Prophet reporting more truthfully than ever before, very few people knew of the pivotal role the truth drug played, or Harry's involvement.

All of this meant Harry was having the best year of his life.

"Harry, my boy," said Fred Weasley dropping an arm over Harry's shoulder on their way back from Quidditch practice one day. "We'd like to have a bit of a word with you."

"Indeed," said George, linking his arm through Harry's to guide him towards an empty classroom. "Just a quick, family discussion, if you will."

"Eh?"

"We can't help notice-"

"That you have been disappearing quite often-"

"Almost every day in fact –"

"And that many of these disappearances are preceded by you meeting a quite attractive girl -"

"Not always the same girl, mind."

"Indeed not."

"Several different girls actually, all quite attractive, although somehow clumsy –"

"And friendly too,"

"Yes, to a certain fifth year of our acquaintance, that is. To the rest of us, they seem somewhat indifferent-"

"Hostile almost."

"- and while that's not an issue for us normally, the things is that nobody can tell us which house any of these young lasses are from –"

"Or their names."

"Bit of a mystery, it is."

"Even our brother won't clue us in –"

"Although it is highly likely he hasn't even noticed, since anything besides the next meal often escapes his attention."

Harry stopped swivelling his head from one to the other and shook it, to clear his thoughts.

"Whoa, guys. Let me explain."

"Please," said the two identical boys simultaneously.

"Look," said Harry, checking to make sure the door to the room was closed and nobody could over hear them. "It's like this. I am doing something for the Ministry, with Minister Diggory himself, but we are trying to keep it secret – very secret. You can't tell anybody about this, or even hint. I'm not fooling guys – this is deadly serious.

"I can't be seen doing it or it might leak out, so an Auror, Tonks is her name, comes out and visits me every other day at least, and we sneak off to, er talk. She can change what she looks like so nobody is meant to notice me meeting the same person all the time or spending too much time with the professors, most of whom don't know about this either."

Twins looked sceptical as Harry explained, probably already prepared for some sort of evasion, but then looked at each other and broke out in matching smiles.

"Well, well, well. Looks like our little Harrikins is growing up, George, just not in the way we thought."

"Harriet the spy – my, my, my. That's a bit unexpected."

"It's true, but you have to keep it secret, really. It should have all finished by now, but, er, something keeps coming up," said Harry.

"Well," said George, leaning back and looking more relaxed. "That's a relief."

"Eh?" asked Harry.

"We thought, that you might be, how do say?"

"Sampling the fruits of life?"

"Sowing your wild oats –"

"Taking the old bicycle out for a ride –"

"Testing the limits of your manhood –"

"Dipping the wick –"

"Enough!" said Harry, who had been getting redder and redder with embarrassment at each comment.

"See, Harry, the problem is –"

"That we happen to know a very compatible young lass –"

"Who has a rather long-standing interest in you –"

"And we are a bit obligated to make sure you notice her –"

"Before she decides you are a lost cause."

"What? Who? Why?" spluttered Harry.

"Romantic interest."

"Ginny Weasley."

"Possibly because you are the boy-who-lived, the person who saved her life, and winner of the Triwizard Tournament –"

"Not to mention generally a nice guy and all round hero."

"Ginny? Likes me? Since when?"

"Harry, Harry, Harry," said Fred, putting his arm around Harry's shoulders again to guide him towards the door. "You just don't have a clue, do you?"

"Not a shred of a glimmer of an idea, I fear," said George

"What are we going to do with you?" asked Fred.

"I say we lock them in a broom cupboard for several hours and not let them out until they talk about it," suggested George seriously.

"Didn't work for Filch and Peeves," reminded Fred.

"True, but I think Peeves may actually have escaped through a wall and Filch was left in there by himself for two days before Dumbledore found him."

"Ahh yes, well that explains that. Right then, how about we just wander off and leave him to figure it out himself."

"Sounds good to me."

Before Harry could protest, the door was open and both boys where nowhere to be seen.

"Ginny?" Harry asked himself.

Then another thought forced its way into his mind; a horrifying and dangerous thought that could not be ignored.

"Oh no."

#

Ginny awoke to find a hand covering her mouth, preventing her from screaming.

"Shush, Ginny, it's me, Harry Potter," said a voice from the darkness of her room.

Instantly Ginny stopped struggling, but her heart beat even faster.

"Harry," she whispered angrily, as soon as his hand left her face. "What the blazes are you doing? You scared me half to death!"

"Sorry," he said. "I didn't want you to wake up the whole house."

"What are you doing here?" she asked, struggling to sit up and keep the blankets around her neck at the same time.

Despite the darkness of the room, she felt ridiculously nervous at letting Harry see her in a nightgown. Worry that the other girls might at any moment wake up and intrude also gave her pause.

"Listen, I'm really sorry for this, but give me a moment to explain, please?"

Ginny nodded, biting back the urge to tell him to get the hell out of there before they were caught. Terrifying and exciting fantasies running through her thoughts at the speed of light were making it difficult for her to think clearly.

"Listen, you know all the stuff that's been happening with the Ministry and Voldemort lately? Well I've been involved in a lot of it – don't ask me how or why – but anyway, something came up about you, and I have come to investigate."

"About me?" asked Ginny. "What do you mean?"

"Look, I'm really sorry, but it's really important. I need you to drink this," Harry said.

In the dim light moonlight coming through the stained glass window of the dorm, Ginny could see Harry holding out small potion vial.

"It's Veritaserum; the truth drug," explained Harry. "It'll make you truthfully answer a few questions. I wouldn't ask you to do this, but it's really important. Don't worry about the others, I've cast a sleeping spell on them, so unless you start screaming, they'll stay down till dawn."

"Truth drug? Why me? What questions? What's going on?" asked Ginny, terrified.

"Please," asked Harry.

Ginny hesitated a moment, terrified of what might happen if he asked her certain questions, and even more terrified of what might happen if she refused. Harry never asked for something trivial. He would not be breaking dozens of rules, not to mention a law or two, or risk expulsion without reason, but it was a hell of a leap of faith for her to just blindly trust him.

Then again, he had saved her life, at great risk to his own.

"Okay," she said, taking the vial from his hand. "But you are going to owe me one damn good explanation afterwards."

She downed the tiny amount of liquid in a single shallow gulp. Immediately, strange warmth filled her, calming her heart and breathing, making her eager to hear Harry's questions. She wanted him to ask her things now; needed him to give her questions to answer.

"Are you in anyway under the influence of the Diary Horcrux of Tom Riddle?" asked Harry.

Before Ginny's conscious mind could even start to understand the question, her mouth was responding.

"Yes," she said.

Harry gasped, Ginny suddenly felt like weeping in shock.

"How?" he asked. "What is it doing?"

"The possession has ruined my self esteem. I am striving to overcome it by being friendlier and pretending to be more open and outgoing than I am really comfortable with. Almost every day I fight to reclaim some of what that bastard took from me."

Harry looked shocked, and then excited.

"So you are not acting according to its will? You aren't still doing or thinking things it wants you to? You're not trying to be, er, be, um, friends, yeah that's it. You're not trying to be friends with me so you can do something to betray me later on or anything like that are you?"

"No. My will is completely my own. Even though I agree with a lot of the things Tom told me when he was pretending to be my friend, and I am still taking some of the advice he gave me, I am doing it because I want to, not because he wants me to."

"Thank Merlin," sighed Harry.

Ginny silently agreed.

Harry hesitated again, not speaking for a long time. Ginny waited patiently; half grateful that Harry had found a way to answer one of the questions she was too scared to openly ask herself.

"Er, um, can I ask a personal question?"

"You can ask anything you want to," said Ginny, unable to say anything else, despite wanting to scream in sudden apprehension.

Harry probably didn't understand, since he seemed to take this as her approval, rather than the simple truth.

"Do you, er like me?"

"Yes," she said, mortified but unable to refuse the question.

"I mean, really like, you know, like, um – "

"Yes."

Morgana she was embarrassed. He was going to die for this. A slow, excruciating painful death, once she could look at him again without fainting from embarrassment.

"Me, or the boy-who-live?" asked Harry.

"You are the boy-who-lived," she said.

"I mean, do you like me, the person you see around the school, the guy who spent two weeks at your parents' house with Ron, or do you like Harry Potter, the baby hero of the wizarding world, the boy-who-lived. Do you only like me because of the legend and stories, or do you like me for who I really am?"

"There is no difference to me," said Ginny, confused by what Harry was trying to ask.

Harry shook his head, in frustration.

"Would you like me if I wasn't the boy-who-lived?"

"No," said Ginny, "because you wouldn't be you. You would be somebody else."

"Arrghhh," said Harry to himself. "Okay, forget it. It was a stupid question anyway. I don't know what I was thinking. You're probably going to curse me from here to next Tuesday once I give you the antidote."

Even though it wasn't really a question, Ginny felt compelled to treat it like one.

"I won't curse you because you have put my mind at rest about the Diary's influence," she said. "But I won't be able to talk to you for a while since you have embarrassed me a lot with your other questions."

"Sorry," said Harry automatically. "How can I make it up to you?"

"You can never mention this again, and from now on, start to pay me more attention. Once you have spent several months courting me, you can ask me out. If you have managed to treat me right and kept me happy, I will say yes.

"From then onwards, I want you to treat me like a queen. I expect to be considered your equal in all things, but you will need to get my permission or opinion for just about everything. You will have to make me the absolute centre of your life, but continue to act bravely and heroically, making the rest of the world jealous of my good fortune.

"After we have both had a few years of living it up, you can marry me and take us on a grand tour of the world, then settle down in a huge mansion with a well paying job and become the perfect husband and father.

"Occasionally I might get bored of you, and may want to have a fling, usually with a healthier looking man. At these times you can turn a blind eye and defend my honour against any who besmirch me, despite being jealous. You yourself can never dally outside of our relationship, no matter how great the temptation.

"My want and need for material things may never be satisfied, so you will have to become the richest man on earth, and be willing to spend it all on me. You will also become the most powerful wizard since Merlin, and pass on those extraordinary talents to our children.

"Finally, you could pass away tragically while I am still relatively young, leaving me filthy rich, famous, and still gorgeous. You will have trained our children to worship me and take care of me for the rest of my life, accepting whatever and whoever I do once you are gone.

"You will have lived a very happy life with me as the wife you never believed you deserved, despite my domineering ways, and your legacy will keep our family prominent in all circles of wizarding society for the next thousand years."

Harry sat back in utter shock and Ginny wanted to force a fist down her own throat, but was too stunned to move. What the hell was that all about?

"What the hell was that all about?" asked Harry, echoing her thoughts.

"That is one way you could make it up to me," answered Ginny, suddenly wishing she could sink into the bed and disappear from sight.

"And if I don't?" asked Harry. "If I decide just to say sorry?"

"I'll be embarrassed and angry for a few years but eventually get over it," she answered. "I'll still be able to land a good husband, will fall just as deeply in love, and try to be just as happy. I'll always have a special soft spot for you though, and will still try to seduce you somewhere down the line."

"Right then," said Harry standing up. "The drug will wear off in an hour or so, Ginny. Sorry about all this. Be seeing you."

With that, he pulled an invisibility cloak over his head and disappeared. The window to the dorm opened, and then closed again quietly, rustling the drapes around her with a cold blast of wind.

Ginny sat on her bed shivering, but it was not the cold making her tremble.

**Finite.**


	3. The Ron Incident

**Veritas Oracle: The Ron Incident**

"_The truth. It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution."_

- Albus Dumbledore - The Philosopher's Stone

"_It is Veritaserum - a Truth Potion so powerful that three drops would have you spilling your innermost secrets for this entire class to hear." _

- Severus Snape - The Goblet of Fire

#

"Harry, what is going on with you and Ginny?" asked Ron, in he probably thought was a quiet whisper, but was really only slightly short of a roar.

Harry sighed and put down the textbook he was trying in vain to understand. It was at times like this that he most envied Hermione's ability to seemingly absorb knowledge directly from the pages.

"What do you mean?" he asked wearily.

He had been keeping away from Ron's younger sister, putting at least as much effort into avoiding her as she was in avoiding him. Between that and all of his 'extra' duties, he was beginning to get worn out. Had he inadvertently done something and not realised it?

"I mean like the fact that anytime one of you see the other one in a room, you turn around and go somewhere else. She almost had a fit when I suggested inviting you home for Christmas this year," said Ron.

Harry was a bit surprised and worried that Ron, not the most observant person in the world, spotted the difficulties between his sister and Harry after their late night, truth potion fuelled discussion. It went without saying that other people would also have picked up on the tension, and it was bound to be just a matter of time until somebody else said something.

"You're not going to just let it drop if I say it's none of your business, are you?" he asked, not very hopefully.

"She's my sister!"

"Never seemed to matter much before," Harry grumbled under his breath.

"What do you mean?" asked Ron testily.

"I mean you were always chasing her off and ignoring her. What's changed now that's gotten you all concerned about her?"

"I'm just – I - Quit avoiding the question and tell me what's happened," Ron almost yelled.

Harry sighed again. Maybe he was being paranoid, but all of his undercover Ministry dealings and secrets revealed during his Veritaserum induced intelligence session were fuelling an increasing amount of suspicion about the wizarding world – none of it good. There were only so many times you could discover yet another plot to assist the Dark Lord in some nefarious, self-serving scheme before you began to believe the whole world was incompetent or corrupt.

"Not here," Harry whispered, leaning in closer to Ron. "Not where somebody might hear."

Ron suddenly looked around and noticed at least three people in the common room watching them, and probably half a dozen more unsuccessfully pretending not to listen.

"Come with me," said Harry, packing away his books and standing up.

Several minutes later found them in an unused classroom. Ron watched in surprise as Harry cast some complicated looking locking and silencing spells on the room, making it impossible for anybody to overhear them.

"When did you learn to do that?" asked Ron, once Harry finished.

"A friend, well a sort of cousin really, has been teaching me. It's all part of this hush-hush Ministry business that I'm not allowed to tell you about," explained Harry.

His agreement to help Minister Diggory was driving a wedge between Harry and friends, since it meant he had to keep a lot of secrets from them that he would normally not hesitate to share, but he had no choice – it was just too important to let anything slip out about what was really happening.

"Has it got something to do with Ginny?" asked Ron.

Harry sat down on the edge of one of the desks, but didn't put his wand away just yet. After all, as Sirius once explained him via a long winded and hideously embarrassing tale, you could never be too careful when dealing with a bloke about his sister.

"Look, I found out Ginny had a bit of a thing for me, and we sat down and talked it out. It's all a bit embarrassing and neither of us is really comfortable about it yet."

"What?" asked Ron, looking totally confused.

"Merlin, Ron, get with it. We figured out that we'd make a terrible couple – just like you and Hermione."

The very second the words left Harry's mouth, he realised he just left the hippogriff out of the cave, and there was no putting it back.

"What do you mean 'just like you and Hermione'?" asked Ron.

"Nothing. Forget I said it," said Harry, hopelessly trying to get himself out of the conversation.

No such luck.

"No, I want to know what you meant," said Ron, the famous Weasley temper starting to make its inevitable presence known.

"I mean you two would be lousy together, okay? I mean you constantly fight and complain about each other and it's driving us all mental," snapped Harry, letting his own temper start to flare.

"Oh and I suppose you would make a better boyfriend for her?" said Ron sarcastically. "Is that why you told Ginny something to drive her away? Did you tell her you already had a thing for Hermione?"

"Shut it, Ron," snapped Harry. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't I? Well don't you enlighten me then, Mr I'm-too-good-for-your-sister-but-your-girlfriend-will-do?"

"Don't try to pull that crud with me," said Harry. "She's not your girlfriend, or have you forgotten to ask her opinion on it?"

"Oh, talked it over with her have you?" yelled Ron. "What have you said to Hermione?"

"Look, it's not like that, all right," said Harry, trying to force himself to calm down.

This was not a conversation he wanted to have, and letting Ron bait him was just making things worse.

"Then explain it to your not-so-bright-mate then! Tell me why Hermione is too good for me."

"I didn't say she was too good for you. You're getting carried away," said Harry.

"Oh, so you haven't had the guts to tell her she's too good for me, eh?"

That was too much. Tiredness and stress combined to push Harry over the edge.

"You aren't any good for her. I can prove it!" yelled Harry, reaching into his pocket to remove a small potion vial.

Even as reached for the bottle Tonks inadvertently left behind, he knew what he was doing was wrong, that he was letting his emotions get the better of him, but he couldn't stop himself.

"Here. This is Veritaserum, the truth drug. Three drops and you can't lie, not matter what. Take some and tell me how good for Hermione you'll be. Go on!"

Their voices were growing louder as they argued, but luckily the silencing spells held.

"All right!" yelled Ron, his anger overriding any common sense he may have had.

He snatched the vial from Harry's hand and unstoppered it, pausing just long enough to judge how big a swig he had to take, A second after the potion entered his mouth, he suddenly became calm and relaxed.

Unfortunately Harry was still fired up, and not willing to back down from the insane idea generated moments before.

"Do you really think you'll be a good boyfriend for Hermione?" he asked angrily, as soon as the potion was obviously in effect.

"Yes," said Ron.

Harry's eyes widened and he snatched the bottle to check that Ron had actually drunk some of it.

"How can you say that?" he asked, seeing there was less in the bottle than should have been if Ron didn't drink any.

"The truth potion is making me answer you," said Ron, with an alien calm in his voice.

His eyes betrayed triumph.

"I mean, how can you be a good boyfriend for Hermione when all that you do is argue with her?" said Harry, seriously doubting the validity of Veritaserum for the first time since Mister Diggory had dosed him with it months ago.

"Hermione needs to learn to respect people that are not in positions of authority. She needs to have somebody argue with her, even if they are wrong, so that she is forced to consider other people's opinions and viewpoints. I am best placed to do that, since she is so different to me in both intelligence and attitude that my arguments often confound her. It forces her to think outside of her narrow mindset in order to try and understand how I can take the positions I do. Most people would get brow beaten and give in after a while. I won't."

"That's ridiculous," said Harry. "You can't be a good boyfriend just by constantly arguing! And what about the way you get jealous all the time? You'll drag her down by always getting on her case about how 'lucky' she is after she's worked really hard at something."

"I'll grow out of it," said Ron. "I have already made significant improvements since botching up with you so badly last year over the tournament. At the same time, my appreciation for the simpler things in life will ground her, making her better able to be pleased by her brilliant achievements rather than allowing the need to do better than everybody else be her benchmark."

"That's a load of rot," said Harry. "You don't appreciate your own family and you'll end up taking her for granted too, won't you?"

"She will never allow me to take too much for granted, and she will help me recognise how special my family and friends are. With her help, I will be a better man, and that will make her very happy."

Harry sat back down on the desk dejectedly. All of his righteous anger, the stress fuelled rage ignited by Ron's accusations fled, leaving him tireder and very aware of the mess he just made.

"Oh bugger," he said. "I've really stuffed this up, haven't I?"

"No," said Ron.

"Yeah, I have. You're my best mate and I've dosed you up with a truth serum just because you thought I was trying to move in on the girl you like," said Harry, rubbing his forehead with a hand. "First I wreck any chance Ginny and me ever had; now I've gone and given you the wrong impression and proven I'm a git when it comes to relationships. This is stuff is supposed to be regulated by the Ministry, now I understand why – it can really mess up people if they are made to just 'out with it' all the time, right? I wish I'd given back to Tonks when she dropped it."

"The truth can be a terrible thing," said Ron, eerily echoing words Dumbledore once spoke to Harry, "but the real problem is that I am right about being a good boyfriend for Hermione and you are going to have to live with that."

"Oh that's not a problem," said Harry dismissively. "I like the idea of you two together, and I'm really relieved there's some sense to it, even if it is seriously twisted. I know you'll never try to hurt her, and I really don't have any designs on her myself. So that's not an issue, right?"

"No," agreed Ron, almost sounding happy. "The issue is you have to live with me being right and you wrong about something big, and I am going to remind you of it many, many times."

Harry groaned. The truth of that statement was very terrible indeed, but long hours under the influence of the truth drug with a playful and mischievous Tonks taught Harry a few tricks.

"Oh? What about if I ask you to tell something embarrassing that I can use if you ever bring this up again?" smirked Harry. "Would that stop you from crowing about being right?"

Ron gulped.

"No," he said, surprising them both. "I get embarrassed by doing or saying stupid things so often that it wouldn't matter that much, whereas you'd really suffer."

"Bugger," said Harry. "What can I do to stop you then?"

"You could alter my memory, but the guilt you will feel, in addition to the guilt of taking advantage of the truth drug, would make you miserable."

"Good point," said Harry.

"You could also find a way to help me with my temper, first by doing something for me so terrific that I'd seriously be grateful to you again, like I was after you saved Ginny, and then by making sure everybody knows you are really my best mate."

"Everybody knows that now, don't they?' asked Harry.

"No," answered Ron. "Most people see me at best as your side-kick. They don't think you have any respect for me, but keep me around as a sort of charity case. They know you and Hermione are very close, but they don't really take me seriously."

"That's stupid," said Harry, letting himself get a bit angry again.

How could he ever have missed this? Was it true, or was it just Ron's inferiority showing through again?

"Are you sure?" he asked. "It's not just you feeling that way?"

"I wasn't truly aware of it myself until you asked me," answered Ron, no longer looking very happy, "but it's fairly obvious, if you take the time to look at how people treat me."

Harry stopped and thought about it. Did people really treat Ron as nothing more than comedy relief? Was he always seen as Harry's mate, and not as his own man? Even as he asked himself the question, he knew the answer.

"Any idea what I can do to make this happen for you?" he asked.

"No," answered Ron. "You can't stop being you, and I don't want you to anyway. Even if you told everybody about the time I stood on a broken leg to protect you from Sirius, people would still want to know what happened to you, and not care about me. They would forget my part of the story and focus on you, because you are the Boy-Who-Lived and lot more interesting than another Weasley."

"That sucks," said Harry. "You know I don't think of you that way, don't you?"

"Yes," answered Ron, giving Harry at least some relief.

"Okay," said Harry, starting to get an idea. "What if I knew of a way to make you more the centre of attention? Would that help?"

"It all depends on the way you do it," said Ron. "I don't want to be in the spotlight for something stupid, and the wrong kind of attention could just make it worse."

"Do you remember the Mirror of Erised, back in first year?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember what you saw in it, you being Head Boy and Captain of the Quidditch team ?"

"Yes."

"Well I've found out McGonagall intends on making me captain next year, don't ask how. I'll refuse, and then I'll ask her if she will give it to you. Since you are already a prefect, that is almost exactly what you wanted, and it'll go a long way towards making you stand out on your own, right?"

"It would," said Ron. "Although it is unlikely I will be head boy the next year, since I am not putting in the required effort."

"Yeah, well, I can't give you that one, but you might pull it off on your own anyway, if you pull your finger out," said Harry. "Still, assuming we do well, and I know we will, you'll be able to stand out, right?"

"Yes," Ron answered again, his smile returning. "As both Captain and Prefect, I would be involved in a few things that you are not, and have authority that would set me apart from you. People would definitely see me in a new light."

"Excellent," said Harry, overjoyed that he might have turned this awkward and uncomfortable situation into a plus.

It would be hard to pass up the Quidditch captaincy, but he would still be on the team, and Ron deserved the chance to shine, especially after this stunt.

"Now we just have to get you onto the Quidditch team and out where people can see you do your stuff," he said. "I mean, how hard can that be?"

Ron's smile suddenly got very sickly.

**Finite.**


	4. Coward’s Truth

_A/N Once again, a lot of thanks goes to the guys at AFC for help and encouragement. There will likely be a long break before the next chapter, sorry._

* * *

**Veritas Oracle: Coward's Truth**

"_The truth. It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution."_

- Albus Dumbledore - The Philosopher's Stone

"_It is Veritaserum - a Truth Potion so powerful that three drops would have you spilling your innermost secrets for this entire class to hear." _

- Severus Snape - The Goblet of Fire

* * *

Severus Snape was a right mean bastard.

Many people wanted Snape's head on a silver platter, and not just because he was once one of Voldemort's inner circle. A decade of institutionalized mental and physical cruelty to children, on top of a lifetime of being a git, gave any number of people sufficient motivation to inflict as much pain and suffering on the man as possible.

That simple fact lent itself to having a healthy dose of paranoia.

While it was significantly less than that of Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody, who once destroyed an unwrapped present because he mistook it for a trap, it was still at a level that meant he would never eat or drink anything that did not come from the Hogwarts kitchens.

Not that anybody would ever give him a well-meaning present anyway.

Only at Hogwarts did Severus feel safe enough to trust somebody else to prepare his food. Only at Hogwarts could he relax enough to sleep soundly, and only at Hogwarts could he forget the outside world and revel in the power he held over his charges.

It was therefore a complete surprise to feel the unmistakable magic of the truth Serum, Veritaserum, encompassing his mind as his took a sip of his evening cup of tea.

"How are you feeling, Snivellus?" asked a voice from the empty space in front of his desk.

"I am astounded that I am currently under the influence of Veritaserum, especially since I regularly take the antidote," he answered, unable to resist the force of the drug. "I am also terrified."

A chuckle escaped his invisible interrogator.

"And so you should be," said the voice. "After all, secrets have always been you stock-in-trade, haven't they?"

"My skill as a potion brewer has kept me alive at least as often as the secrets I hold," said Severus.

"Really? Interesting," said the voice.

"Yes," said Severus.

Even a simple, rhetorical question forced a response from him, despite his desperate efforts to free himself from the grip of the magic.

"It doesn't matter, I'm not here for that," said the voice. "I want to know why you treat Harry Potter the way you do."

"Because I hate him and everything he stands for," said Severus unhesitatingly.

"How can you hate him? You didn't even know him before you started in on him. He hadn't even sat a single day in your class and you already hated him."

"I didn't hate him then," said Severus. "I have cultivated my feelings over several years."

"What? Why?"

"I spend a lot of time forcing myself to hate him, because I want revenge on his father."

"That makes no sense," said the voice.

A chair floated unsteadily towards the desk and creaked as the invisible person apparently sat down on it.

"You didn't hate him, so you worked on it, building it up into a total and complete loathing, simply because his father was nasty to you while you were at school?"

"No," said Severus. "I wanted to hate him because he is the ultimate proof that Lily Evans no longer loved me. By openly hating him, I can ensure his son will never enjoy the fame and popularity his father and mother did while at school. It will be a failure they will never be able to fix and my ultimate triumph over two of my betters."

A shocked silence followed Severus's statement.

"Lily Evan's loved you?"

"No, but I convinced myself she did," said Severus.

Now it was his turn to be shocked; more than shocked in fact. His world was rocked by the words from his own mouth – the indisputable truth crushing the single spark that remained deeply buried in his breast.

"Let me see if I've got this right," said the voice angrily. "You convinced yourself she once loved you, and somehow betrayed you when she fell in love and married James Potter, so you forced yourself to hate their orphan son as revenge?"

"Yes, although I would probably have hated the boy anyway, since he is everything I wish I was at that age."

The words nearly choked Severus. It was impossible; the truth drug must be reacting with the antidote. Strangled noises, almost an abortive laugh, made it obvious his interrogator also found the statement ludicrous.

"Are you saying you are envious of the person Harry Potter is? Why?"

Another man would probably have desperately tried to clamp his jaws shut to avoid saying anything, but Severus relaxed and allowed the magical drug to take control. It could not be working properly, to make him state such tripe.

Possibly the tea was overdosed, in an attempt to counter any antidote, and the mix of the two was having an unpredictable effect. It would make for an interesting research project later, but for now, he didn't have to worry too much about giving away any secrets.

"I am saying that I wish that I was as noble, kind, and brave as Harry Potter. He has obviously grown up in an abusive environment, and yet is unbowed."

Severus felt his stomach turn at the sickening false words pouring from his mouth. He was going to have to brush his teeth after this session, with an industrial strength cleaner. When he found who it was asking the questions, he was going to murder them, slowly, painfully, and with great relish, for making him speak nonsense like this.

The voice was completely unfamiliar, but Severus would find a way to discover who it was.

"Huh?"

Even such an inarticulate noise forced him to respond.

"He has not been broken by the hardships of his youth. He remains loyal, and strong spirited, despite his 'family' trying to beat him into submission. I am jealous that he hasn't even attempted to learn spells that would empower him; to make him stronger, the way I expect anybody with his history to do."

The words of the mutated spell sounded almost reasonable. This was definitely worthy of further study. To replicate an effect like this would be worth a lot, to both sides of the war.

"You mean Dark Arts, don't you?"

"Yes."

A prolonged silence followed as the interrogator apparently considered the babble that fell from Severus' mouth. He used the time to try to extend his senses and get a hint of the identity of his attacker. The invisibility cloak made Legilimency impossible, and despite his wishful thinking, Potter was not the only person with access to one.

The barest hint of an unusual odour reach Severus' nose. It was something floral and sweet, almost like a woman's perfume.

"What makes you think people act like that, that a kid who's been treated like crud at home automatically goes out and gets himself into trouble?"

"Because that's what I did."

Silently, Severus cursed himself. There were still some aspects of the truth serum magic working. He should not have relaxed or dropped his guard, even though his chances of evading or altering the magically enforced answers were slim. Now his interrogator believed Severus came from an abusive household, and that motivated many of his less successful choices.

What's worse, it was true.

"You went Dark, because you were getting beaten at home?"

"That is how it started."

"Yet you turn around and mistreat Harry, because he has not done the same thing?"

"Yes."

"You are pathetic, aren't you?" said the voice, disgusted.

"Yes," answered Severus, tasting more of the same foul bitterness from before.

Somebody was going to pay for this humiliation, big time. It didn't matter that the magic wasn't giving the absolute truth it should be – it was still a veritable death sentence to force a ridiculous admission like that from his mouth.

"How can you be stopped from being such a prick?"

Severus almost smiled in anticipation. Stupidly open-ended questions like this one usually resulted in massive long rants that went nowhere and wasted time. Every minute spent on meaningless dribble was less time for something important to slip out. It was a common mistake made by rooky Auroras and other people not familiar with the foibles of Veritaserum. His answer was going to be quite amusing.

"Kill me."

The shock of the short sentence nearly did.

That was not how it should go! Such a loaded question would never produce a simple answer – it was unheard of. Now Severus started to get panicky. What if the questioner took it seriously? What if they decided to take advantage of his vulnerable state right now, and feed him a poison, or hit him with a curse that simulated a natural death. Severus knew of a dozen such hexes.

Curse the damn idiot for messing up by overdosing him. Any sensible and intelligent person would have taken a different course of action upon discovering Severus was normally immune to the truth drug, not try to overdose him! It was pure bad luck that their chosen delivery vehicle was the same cup he normally received his antidote in.

A light chuckle was not the reaction he was expecting from his startling statement.

"Ah, no," said the voice. "That won't do at all, but here is a thought; if the only way to stop you bothering Harry and the other students is to kill you, doesn't that mean you are courting an attack? Are you suicidal or something?"

"Yes."

"Yes? To which question are you answering yes?"

"Both. I want people to attack me because I secretly hope somebody gets lucky and murders me."

"Secretly? Why secretly?"

"I am under oaths that prevent me from actively seeking my end, but my subconscious is trying to get around them. I don't have the courage or intestinal fortitude to openly defy the oaths."

This was just getting better and better. Now the person thinks Severus wanted to die, and might be encouraged to help him along! There had to be a way, something in the unreliable affects of the mixed antidote and serum that would give him some measure of control - some way of attacking his interrogator.

"What oaths? Why haven't you just messed up and let he-who-must-not-be-named kill you then?"

"I want to die, but I am terrified of being tortured, which is what would happen if the Dark Lord even suspected me of disloyalty. I don't want to suffer."

There, he managed to avoid answering the first parts of the question. It took a very skilled and disciplined mind to do that with Veritaserum normally, although he had succeeded before.

"I have taken many oaths, but the main one is that I promised to look out for Harry Potter when he attended Hogwarts," he continued, after a slight pause.

Bugger. So much for avoiding answering anything. Next time he had to avoid thinking about the missed answer, lest it make him address it.

"Look out for him? You've done everything in your power to make his life a misery! How is that looking out for him?"

"I have convinced myself I was doing what was best for him. I have constantly lied to myself and pretended he must be taken down a notch or two, to have his ego deflated, and to be controlled. By falsely believing I was offering a counter to the hero worship and undeserved attention, I was fulfilling my oath, yet still able to extract petty revenge against dead people through their innocent son."

Then again, it looked like the mixed potions were still producing unreliable results, thank Merlin. The sheer incorrectness of the statements staggered Severus. It took all of his willpower not to smile.

"So," said the voice, after a moment. "Is there any way to convince you to stop trying to get yourself killed by taunting students and the other professors, since murdering you really doesn't appeal to me, but stopping you from tormenting Harry is the whole reason I am doing this?"

"If you can convince me of the truth of my statements, I will have no choice but to revaluate my conduct and life. After a period of denial, I will almost certainly seek advice from the only person whom I could talk to about this, Albus Dumbledore. He is already aware of my condition, and will be able to help me become a better person, despite my own loathing to admit how wrong I have been for all of these years."

That was more like it. Rambling and meaningless garbage was a suitable answer for a vague and open-ended question like that. He could go on for hours if the interrogator didn't catch on quickly.

"Convince you of the truth? You have taken Veritaserum, how can it not be the truth? I know for a fact you can't lie, not even if you don't believe what you are saying, and I guess you know that too, so how can you doubt your own words?"

Double bugger.

"I believe an overdose of Veritaserum used to counter the antidote normally in my tea is causing unreliable answers," he said.

Suddenly a quiet chime sounded from the other side of the desk, likely the alarm of a watch of some sort.

"Damn," said the voice. "Time to go. The potion will wear off in about half an hour. Don't try to find me, you won't succeed. I've gotten all the answers I came here for, but it's not quite what I hoped for, so I might be back one day."

There was a rustling and the chair suddenly fell over, evidently knocked over by the person getting up from it. Severus caught a brief glimpse of nondescript black robes as the invisibility cloak snagged on the tumbling chair, but not enough to help identify the culprit.

Footsteps paced across the room, heading for the exit. The door creaked open a fraction of an inch, probably while the person checked to make sure the coast was clear.

Severus was fuming, but couldn't help feel relieved that it appeared the interview was over, and his life was not in immediate risk, unless the overdose of Veritaserum mixing with the antidote produced more unexpected symptoms.

"Oh, one more thing," said the voice. "Although you can always check by analysing the rest of your tea, I think one last question should settle the matter for you sufficiently."

Snape tensed, wondering what was coming.

"Severus Snape, knowing exactly what it tastes like, was your tea overdosed with Veritaserum?"

"No."

"Was there any antidote in there?"

"No."

The door opened and closed again before Snape had a chance to realize what just happened, and then he sat very still, for a very long time.

#

"How did it go?" asked Harry, taking the folded cloak back. "Dobby come through for you?"

"It all went well," answered Tonks, who currently looked like a man.

The sex change was very disconcerting, for both of them.

"He did exactly what I asked him to do. It was handy having access to the kitchens like that - wish I did when I was coming here. Thanks for lending me your cloak," said Tonks.

"No problem," answered Harry. "I just wish you could tell me what you were doing."

It was half question and half complaint, but Tonks wasn't going to fold.

"Sorry," she said. "State secret, but I think you'll figure it out soon enough."

Checking they were still unobserved, she quickly shifted her features into that of a teenage girl, and linked her arm through his.

"You stayed visible in a public place the whole time?" she asked, as they made their way toward the dorms.

"Sort of," answered Harry shyly. "I had a meeting with McGonagall and Dumbledore. Apparently, they suspect somebody might be sneaking around using Veritaserum on people, although nobody has actually come out and said anything."

"You wouldn't know anything about that, would you, Harry?" said Tonks in an amused voice.

"Not me, Tonks. Not a thing," laughed Harry.

"Perfect," said the young Auror.

**Finite.**


	5. To Thine Own Self

_A/N - Rating changed to T due to implied sexual and other nasty situations. It was bound to happen somewhere along the line! This was a surprise, so dont be expecting another one too quickly. Thanks again to the AFC guys for helping out._

"Harry, I want you to put me under again."

The request was so unexpected, it actually staggered Harry, causing him to stumble and bump into a wall as he turned to look at Ginny.

"What?" he managed to squeak out, barely keeping his voice under a yell.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about what happened last time," she answered, after shooting a look around to make sure nobody was close enough to overhear.

"Why the blazes do you want to do it again then?" he asked, his voice cracking as he tried to keep it quiet.

"Because I've done nothing but think about it, and I think I understand now. I know I was infatuated with you, and that I let that get in the way of really knowing you, but I've been working hard on it, and I think I know better now."

"No," said Harry.

"Please? I've spent the last two months thinking about this non-stop. I have to know."

Her tone was so pleading, her eye's so begging, that Harry couldn't say no, despite knowing he wasn't going to.

"I'll think about it," he said, before hurrying off to join his friends.

Behind him, Ginny smiled nervously.

#

"Harry, I want you to give me the Veritaserum," said Hermione.

"What? No way. I am keeping it," he said, not quite angrily. "I knew I should never have told you about it."

"You didn't tell me, remember? I guessed after Ron started trying to be nice to me," said Hermione, putting more than a little reproach into her voice. "Anyway, that's not what I mean. I want you to question me with it."

Harry groaned and put a hand his forehead. He could feel his ever-present headache blossoming into migraine proportions.

"Not you too," he complained.

"Me too? Who else wants, oh. It's Ginny, isn't it?"

"How could you possibly know that?" he asked.

Her scornful look made him flinch.

"Please," she said, using her best don't-treat-me-like-an-idiot tone. "I saw the sudden and dramatic change in her a few weeks ago. I've watched how hard she has been trying to change. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what happened, especially after Ron's recent behaviour. Somehow, Ginny suddenly realised she was a raving fangirl of the boy-who-lived, and just as suddenly started trying to break herself of the habit."

"I didn't mean to," said Harry. "I mean, I meant to give it to her, but I didn't mean to have her say all that stuff."

"It's okay, Harry," said Hermione. "As far as I can tell, it's made her see some things about herself that she now wants to change. Same with Ron. You gave him some Veritaserum, asked some questions neither of you will admit to, and now he is trying to be, er, different."

"He made me," said Harry. "He got me angry and took it himself. It's not like I planned it or anything."

"Either way, I want the same opportunity," said Hermione.

Harry began nervously pacing the empty classroom she had pulled him into.

"It's not that easy," he said. "You know I am not even meant to have it. I could get into big trouble if anybody finds out about it."

"If you are talking about what happened to Professor Snape, I know you have already been investigated, and came away without any blame.

"But don't think that I am fooled for a minute. I know somebody gave him something that caused him to have a nervous breakdown, and considering what I've seen it do to Ron and Ginny, I've no doubt it was Veritaserum. I have no idea what truth could have been revealed, or who gave it to him, since it clearly wasn't you, but I also highly doubt you had absolutely nothing to do with it."

Harry smiled, somewhat maliciously.

"It was bloody funny to see him dancing naked in the main hall, though," he said. "Disgusting, but damn funny."

"Some people do very silly things when they are drunk," said Hermione, "but let's not get off track. I know you have a bottle of Veritaserum, probably obtained from that secret agent who keeps whisking you off for hours at a time. I want you to give me the correct dosage, and then ask me these questions."

She held out a folded piece of parchment for Harry to take. It was a list of questions, twenty in total. Harry felt the colour bloom, and then drain from his face as he read.

"No way," he said, hold out the list for her to take back. "Not in a million years."

"Please?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. "I really want to know. I need to know. I have to discover those things about myself."

"No you don't," said Harry. "Trust me, you don't need Veritaserum to discover yourself, and you sure as hell don't need anybody to ask you these questions."

"You don't understand," she said. "You don't know what it's been like. You can't imagine how tormented I've been for as long as I can remember. I've never fit in anywhere, and I have to know why, now before it's too late to fix."

"Too late to fix? Hermione, there is nothing to fix. You are fine just the way you are."

"Then why do I have a total of only three people I can really call friends, and one of those is the younger sister of one of the others? I know why you and Ron felt you had to save me from that Troll, but I've never understood why you've stayed my friend since then, not when I've chased away everybody else that has ever tried."

She was almost crying now, and Harry felt her pain stab into him, weakening his resolve.

"No," he forced himself to say. "Ron and I are lucky to have you as a friend, and everybody else doesn't know what they're missing out on, but if you make me do this, you might not get the answers you are after. That could make you try to stop being our friend. I refuse to take that risk."

"I promise I won't, no matter what," she said. "I'll take an oath, if you want."

"You can't make that promise," he said. "You don't understand what it's like. The drug makes you say things, things you might not even know you thought. It twists you up, forcing you to say the truth, even when you don't want to believe it or are trying to stop something from being true. It's restricted for a reason you know."

Hermione looked startled for a moment, then her eyes widened in understanding.

"You've been taking it often, haven't you?" she asked. "That's part of this secret thing you're doing, the thing that's kept you-know-who in check, isn't it? That's how come we are winning the war, and how you know what it does to you."

"You are far too smart for your own good, you know that?" he laughed. "I can't tell you straight out, but I can say you are not wrong."

He could almost see her mind working hard to figure it out, but he really hoped she would fail, just this once.

"It's your scar, isn't it?" she asked excitedly. "You know things, because of your scar. Those visions you were having. The drug is getting information from them that you didn't realise you knew."

So much for that hope then.

"I can't tell you," he said. "I've taken oaths…"

She looked disappointed for a moment, but rallied quickly.

"I understand," she said. "I won't say anything to anybody, but don't you see? Veritaserum can be a positive thing. It's helping you and the Ministry to fight the Dark Lord, and it will help me."

Harry shook his head and dropped down into a chair.

"It's not the same thing," he said. "Not the same at all. If I do this, if I put you under and ask some of those questions, you'll regret it. Even if you do end up answering them the way you think you are going to, there is every chance the answers you get will be meaningless as soon as they are asked."

Hermione looked at him in confusion, compelling him to explain further.

"All right, think of it this way. Let's say I ask you a question about how you feel about something, and your answer reveals something you didn't realise or consciously know. As soon as you answer, it's no longer unknown, or subconscious, and that changes how you feel. It's invalidated itself the moment it has been said."

The bushy-haired witch tilted her head sideways and looked at him quizzically.

"Well that's how Tonks explained it to me," Harry said, feeling a bit awkward using words like 'invalidated'. "She is Sirius's cousin."

"The Metamorph?"

Harry nodded, again astounded at how much Hermione had figured out on her own.

"I can understand that," she said thoughtfully. "So I'll revise the list and take that into account."

"No!" said Harry. "Don't you understand? I don't want to know these things about you. I don't want to hear your answers about personal things like this, and I sure as hell will not ask you if you have feelings about me beyond friendship!"

With that, he stood up and stormed from the room, ignoring her pleas for him to come back, even though the sound clawed at his heart painfully.

#

"Have you thought about it?" Ginny asked.

Harry groaned and slumped back into his favourite common room chair. For the last three days, all he had done was think about the damn truth drug, and the two women who wanted him to dose them up and ask about personal feelings.

"No," he lied, savouring the feel of being able to utter a total falsehood.

Ginny looked surprised.

"Okay," she said, turning away. "Let me know when you have."

"Gin," he called, causing her to stop and turn back to face him. "Why me? Why not get somebody else to do it?"

"Besides the fact the ingredients are not that easy to get a hold of?" she asked.

He nodded dumbly, realising belatedly that Veritaserum could not be readily available, not while it was restricted. The fact Tonks misplacing a vial of it was the only reason he had any, tended to get lost amongst the veritable litres of the stuff passing his lips over the last few months.

"Simple really," she continued, bravely looking him straight in the eye. "Who else could I trust?"

She turned and walked away, leaving a very dumbfounded Harry behind her. When she disappeared up the stairs, he could see Hermione looking at him meaningfully, and realised Ginny was not the only one who felt that way.

#

Harry stared at the chessboard and concluded that he had no idea what was going on at all, and he had only been playing for fifteen minutes.

"Mate, if you don't sort out whatever it is messing you up, you're going to be doing a Snape before the week is out," said Ron, shaking his head at Harry's predicament.

"What?" asked Harry.

"Ginny. Hermione. Whatever is going on. Do something before you get plastered and try to throw yourself off the astronomy tower."

"I thought Dumbledore told everybody he tripped while on patrol," said Harry.

"Oh yeah, and he always patrols the top of the parapets while wearing one of Trelawney's nightgowns and singing the school song to the tune of 'For he's a jolly good fellow'," said Ron.

"Didn't know about that bit," said Harry. "Makes sense that he tripped I suppose, wearing one of her dresses."

"Saved his life, it did," said Ron. "Got caught on a torch bracket and stopped him making a Snape-shaped hole in the ground, mores the pity.

"Anyway, are you hearing what I am saying? You've got to figure out whatever it is that's on your mind. People are noticing, and your school works slipping too. You gave Sprout the wrong end of the stick yesterday, and she is not happy about it."

Harry pushed the chess set away and leaned his head on his hands.

"You know what they want?" he asked.

"Nope, and I don't want to know either," said Ron. "I've got enough on my plate as it is, and although I want to help you, I don't think me buying into this is going to be any good for anybody. What's important is that you stop avoiding it and really ask yourself what the problem is, and why it's a problem."

"That's very deep of you," said Harry, surprised at Ron's attitude.

"It's the new me," laughed Ron, looking a bit embarrassed.

Then his face fell.

"Oh, Merlin," he said. "I've just figured it out. They want you to, er, do what you did to me, to them. Don't they?"

Harry nodded.

"Hermione's got a list," he said. "And Ginny wants to prove she is getting better, so she wants us to do it again."

Ron groaned.

"A list? Don't do it," he said.

"I'm trying not to," said Harry. "They just won't leave me alone. They don't even have to say anything; they just look at me with a half pleading expression on their faces. It's all I can think about."

"Hmmm. Well, you are going to get screwed, one way, or the other, and it doesn't sound like they are going to pack it in anytime soon," said Ron. "So you might as well bite the bullet and just do it."

Harry looked up in surprise.

"Eh? You just said not to!"

"Hey, I said I'd be no help too. Look, if you don't do it, and you don't make it absolutely clear that you never will, they'll always be after you, bugging and pestering you, and nobody will be happy. If you do it, and it goes well, you are in the clear. If it goes badly, you can start working on fixing it up. They can't hold a grudge or be embarrassed forever, not when they are the ones pressuring you for it."

"That's even deeper," said Harry. "You can't be thinking this up on your own."

"Hey!" laughed Ron. "I told you, since we, you know, I'm a changed man."

"Ron, it's been like a month. Nobody changes that much that fast."

"True," said Ron, looking a bit sheepish. "I got a book."

"A book? I was wrong, you have changed."

"Shut it, git. Anyway, I got a book and it's been helping me to think a bit more about, you know, emotions and stuff," Ron said, almost whispering the last bit.

Harry smiled, but didn't laugh at his friend.

"Good on you, mate," he said. "I was really worried it was going to mess us up, but I'm glad you're getting on top of it."

"And that's what you need to do," said Ron. "Get on top of them, or it – you know what I mean. You've got to shut them down in a way that will stop them pestering you, or just grin and do it. Either way, you have to deal with it. Putting it off won't help."

"Aren't you worried?" Harry asked. "I mean you and Hermione…?"

"Mate, she's not mine, no matter what I want. If this is something she wants, who am I to say she can't do it?"

"You're right," said Harry, standing up abruptly.

"Where you going?" asked Ron, also standing up.

"Ginny first, then I'll see about Hermione," Harry answered.

"Good luck," said Ron.

Harry went in search of his other best friend while Ron shook his head and collected his chess set, heading to bed for some serious reading, or possibly an early night.

Behind them, unnoticed by either, their three roommates looked at each other in wide-eyed astonishment, and one serious case of confusion.

"Hermione and Ginny?" asked Dean. "Both of them? Begging him to do it, and Ginny wants it again, meaning he has already done it with her at least once!"

"Certainly sounded that way, lucky bugger," said Seamus. "Wonder if I can a hold of some Polyjuice somewhere?"

"Guys," said Neville, suddenly looking quite green. "Did they say he had already done Ron?"

**Finite.**


	6. True Friend

**Inspiration, like time, has been fleeting of late. Thanks again to AFC for help getting this done.**

#

"_The truth. It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution."_

- Albus Dumbledore - The Philosopher's Stone

"_It is Veritaserum - a Truth Potion so powerful that three drops would have you spilling your innermost secrets for this entire class to hear." _

- Severus Snape - The Goblet of Fire

#

"Three drops, right?" said Hermione, holding up the mostly empty bottle to peer closely at its contents.

"That's the dose, but I really want you to be sure. I mean, there's no going back."

Hermione chewed on her lower lip nervously, and Harry could almost see her mind racing through the possibilities.

"I have to do this," she said, her voice shaking slightly and tinged with an edge of panic that Harry usually only heard when she was unsure about how many extra feet to add to her assignments. "I have to know."

"If that's how you feel," he said, "but I just don't get it. You are the smartest person I know. Why can't you see that there is no truth to be found behind these questions of yours?"

Hermione looked even more exasperated, but let out a huge sigh.

"'Let us inquire as to what truth is, by going through the various things in which we say there is truth.'"

Harry stared at her at moment before responding with the most intelligent response he could counter with.

"Huh?"

A small smile crept onto Hermione's face, the first since Harry dragged her back into the classroom where she previously accosted him.

"It's a quote about the nature of truth," she said. "From the eleventh century, I think."

Harry just stared at her blankly a moment before deciding to clarify his response for some extra emphasis.

"Huh?"

"Forget it," she said, with a small laugh. "The important thing here is that Veritaserum is magical. Muggles have argued for centuries about the nature of truth, but the magical world bottles it and sells it for a hundred galleons a dose."

"How much?" said Harry, his voice rising to the point of almost squeaking.

"It doesn't matter," said Hermione. "What does matter is that the magic in there will give me some answers-"

"That could be total bunk," interrupted Harry.

"- or might help me learn things about myself that will make me a better person."

"That is just total bollocks. You don't need to be a better person; you are one of the best people I know!" he said.

Hermione smiled, blooming under the offhand praise.

"That's very sweet of you, Harry, but I'm not blind. I know I have many faults-"

"So does everybody else."

"Please," she said. "Trust me."

Harry started pacing again, unable to keep his anxiety down, and unable to look directly at her. He had things to say, hard things.

"Okay," he said, pausing to take a deep breath, "but I've got a few conditions. I am not going to ask you the questions on your list, at least, not all of them."

He turned and resumed his pacing, not daring to look at her until after he had managed to get his concerns off his chest. It was difficult for him to talk to somebody like this, openly, frankly and about what he considered deeply personal things. Even after all of his exposure to Veritaserum and the painfully embarrassing moments Tonks had often inadvertently put him through, he was still reluctant to talk about emotions and feelings, especially with one of his best friends.

"You see, the questions you have written down are very good, too good in fact. They won't help you at all, because you've written them in a way that the truth, no matter what it is, won't help you. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she said, her voice suddenly taking what was becoming a familiar tone.

He stopped in shock and looked at Hermione, caught off guard by her administering the dose to herself while he wasn't looking. It really would have been better if she had waited to hear and agree to his conditions first.

"Good," he said, feeling even more nervous, now that the time had come to follow through on his instinctive plan. "I've become a bit of a philosopher when it comes to the truth, so I'm going to only ask you questions I think are meaningful, and I really hope it doesn't hurt you, but I'm only doing this because you asked me to, okay?"

"I understand," she said slowly, "but I am worried about your ability to ask insightful questions that will help me."

Harry snorted.

"More like you are worried about if I actually can ask insightful questions, right?"

"Yes," she said seriously. "That is a concern."

"Oh, okay. Anyway, here we go. Er, first up, um. Merlin I hope this isn't a mistake.

"Hermione, what difference would it make if you were not always 'right'?"

There was a pause, a lengthening hesitation, as if the answer was too hard to put into words, but then the brilliant Muggle born witch began talking, and Harry listened, trying desperately to understand, and not to judge.

#

"Ginny, I really don't want to do this," said Harry, after closing the door and making sure it was securely locked and warded.

He was picking up a lot of new skills from his extra-curricular activities with Tonks, but his ability to ensure a room was secured with no possibility of being overheard was the one that was getting the most frequent use. Well, aside from really nifty colour changing charms he was using to terrorise unsuspecting students with, but nobody knew about them and just automatically blamed the Twins.

"Why not?" asked the redhead girl, fires of challenge gleaming in her eyes.

Say what you would about the youngest Weasley, even after having her most embarrassing innermost thought betrayed, she was still full of defiance. It was kind of cute. A bit psychotic maybe, and definitely slightly scary, but cute.

"Because it could be damn embarrassing," said Harry. "I mean, I don't know about you, but I'm not one for talking about 'emotions and stuff', as Ron puts it."

"You talked to Ron?" asked Ginny, an edge of panic unintentionally lifting her voice an octave or two.

"Well, yeah," he said, the feeling that he was just digging himself in deeper suddenly rising in his chest. "He sort of guessed something was going on."

Ginny's face gained a blush that made it almost match her hair.

"Oh Merlin," she said.

"Don't worry," said Harry quickly. "I didn't tell him what you said last time or anything. He just told me to 'grab the garden gnome by its legs' and get it over with."

The moment the words left his mouth, he figured he might just have made things worse. Luckily, Ginny seemed determined enough not to take his words the wrong way.

"Did you tell Hermione?" she demanded, embarrassment sliding into a sort of subdued anger so quickly it was terrifying.

"No," he said, but stopped himself from adding that she had worked it out herself.

The truth was becoming slipperier every day.

Ginny let out a sigh, her anger deflating, thankfully.

"Let's just do this," she said, sitting down on the closest seat.

Harry nervously unstoppered the bottle and carefully emptied three drops into her mouth. There wasn't much left in the bottle now.

Instantly he saw the glazed look settle into her eyes.

"Here we go," he mumbled to himself before taking a deep breath.

"How do you feel about me now?" he asked, still unsure if the previously agreed upon question was the right way to go, but determined not to try anything as open ended or dangerous as he had with Hermione.

After all, he barely knew Ginny really, and was pretty sure he had no idea what made the girl tick.

"I really like you," she said. "Although recently, I have been scared of you, and embarrassed by your knowledge of my shameful inner fantasising."

"Understandable," said Harry, releasing a sigh of relief, but she wasn't finished yet.

"I would like to be more than friends with you, but I am terrified that you don't feel the same way about me, since you have almost totally ignored or avoided me since the first day we met."

"That's not true," said Harry automatically, then reconsidered. "Is it?"

"Yes," she answered. "You have barely talked to me if anybody else was around, and even then, it's like you see me as just another friend, and not a very close one."

"Oh," said Harry. "Sorry, but I don't really know you that well. It's not like we hang out together that much or anything."

He shook his head, to stop his thoughts from going any further, since that line of reasoning was not what they were here for.

"So," he said, returning to the subject they agreed to discuss. "Are you over your fan-girl obsession?"

"No," she said.

Harry sighed.

"You still want to marry me, have talented kids, then see me die tragically young, then?"

"No."

"Good, I think. Er, what do you want then?"

"I want to become the sort of person you will respect, admire, and eventually love. I want to be so fabulous that nobody else will ever tempt you away, and you'll see that I am your soul mate. Then you will marry me, have talented kids and live to a ripe old age together watching our children grow up and get married, giving us dozens of grand children."

"That doesn't sound too bad," said Harry thoughtfully. "What's the problem?"

"You are going to die fighting Voldemort."

"Bummer," said Harry.

It seemed oddly appropriate.

#

"What the hell happened?" asked Ron.

"You don't want to know," said Harry, his face clutched in his hands and his elbows resting on the table in front of him.

"You did it, didn't you? To both of them?"

"Yep. I really screwed up this time," said Harry mournfully. "I'll be surprised if Hermione ever talks to me again, and Ginny is likely to burst into tears every time she sees me."

"You are a bleeding idiot," said Ron with a laugh. "Only you can get into situations like this, although I think the three headed dog was less of a problem."

"Hey!" said Harry lifting his head up. "It was your idea!"

"True, but you are the idiot who took my advice. Even I don't take my advice, and I trust me the most."

"You're a real load of help, you know that?" said Harry unable to stop a smile from curling the corners of his mouth.

"You want to tell me what happened?" asked Ron. "It might help."

"Might make it a lot worse too. They'd probably kill me. Slowly, painfully, and in full view of the rest of the school, who would stand around cheering it for doing what I've done."

"There is that," agreed Ron smiling. "So just give me the highlights, I don't want to know all the nitty gritty stuff. That way I won't have a spot roasting on the spit next to you when it all comes out, but I'll still be able to add to the gossip once it starts."

Harry leaned back in his chair and thought about it. He might as well get some of it off his chest.

"I asked Hermione what difference it would make if she wasn't always right."

Ron winced and let out a groan.

"I thought she had a list or something," he said.

"She did, but I told her it was no good and asked her that instead."

"Where did you get that stupid idea from, and don't go blaming this one on me – I had nothing to do with that particular bit 'o brilliance," said Ron.

"I thought it made more sense than the list she had. I kind of figured that if she wanted to 'look into herself' that would set her off on the right path."

"Set her off alright," said Ron rubbing his forehead with one hand. "How do you think she is? Is she going to be messed up?"

"I don't know," said Harry. "She said some pretty insightful things, I think, I really didn't understand half of what she was going on about. I picked up a bit here and there and asked her about it, and that seems to have kept her going. Fairly sure the Veritaserum ran out about half way through, but she wasn't stopping."

"You want me to Obliviate you?"

"I wish you could, mate."

"You want me to Obliviate her?"

"Even more, but then I'd be back to square one and she'd be on my case about it again."

"Well, what about Ginny? What happened there?" said Ron.

"I think she's been secretly stalking me."

"That's not new. She's been stalking you since first year. I reckon she was the one that made that Creevy kid get as many photos of you as he could, or she stole his collection or something. At any rate, there's a mega-huge box under her bed filled with lots of lovely little pictures of you all waving and carrying on."

"Great. Thanks for adding to my list of things to worry about. Well anyway, she's been trying to look past the boy-who-live and see the real Harry Potter."

"She should spend a night in the dorm listening to you snore and fart then," said Ron with a laugh. "That'll cure her."

"You can talk. She doesn't even have to be in the same room to hear you."

"That's why the Burrow's got silencing charms around her room I think."

"So she's been watching me, has managed to get over most of her silly ideals, but still likes me and wants to be more than just friends, a lot more."

"That's good then," said Ron. "Isn't it?"

"Not too bad, but the problem is now she's convinced that I am going to cark it fighting what's-his-name."

"Bugger."

"That's what I said," said Harry. "Kind of ruins any hope of having a nice date or something if she is going to burst into tears every few minutes thinking about my blood spattered corpse."

"Date? You planning on dating my little sister then?" asked Ron, apparently completely missing the central point of Harry's concerns.

"Not if she's dead set certain I'm not going to be around much longer," said Harry. "I can't see that working out."

"I suppose you could play the sympathy card, you know, poor me, I am going to die – how about a kiss then?"

"Ron!"

"What? Don't pretend you didn't at least think about it," laughed Ron.

"Well yeah," admitted Harry. "But I'd never do it. Besides she's your sister. You're not meant to encourage somebody to do that sort of thing to her."

"Meh. It's you or some other prat, and frankly I'd prefer to have a brother in-law I actually like and I can talk Quidditch with, even if it is only for a couple years before you get your head cut off."

"Well don't get too far ahead of yourself. I'm not playing on marrying anybody yet, and I reckon I'd have a bit of a problem spending anytime with somebody whose only thoughts about me are morbid ones."

"True," acknowledge Ron. "Could put a bit of pressure on the old ego that. So what are you going to do now?"

"Me? I'm not doing anything. I've done what they wanted, now I just sit around and wait to see what happens."

"Fair enough. Want to go for a fly?"

Harry nodded and both boys stood up, only to come face to face with a very subdued looking Hermione.

"Er, hi," said Harry cautiously.

"Hi," said Hermione, rather meekly before looking at Ron. "Ronald, could we have a chat for a moment."

Ron shot a panicked look at Harry, who smirked nastily.

"Er, okay," he said. "Here?"

"No, somewhere a bit more private please," said Hermione.

"I'll catch you both later then," said Harry, before hurrying away towards the steps leading to his dorm.

Before ducking out of sight, he caught a glimpse of Ron following Hermione out of the common room, his face showing a great deal of worry.

Harry snickered and darted away before Ron saw him. Now would be a good time to catch some sleep, since he figured Ron might keep him up half the night later, if things went the way he suspected they would.

#

In another part of the castle, another private conversation was taking place under the cover of some rather obscure spells meant to ensure it was not over heard.

"Did you get it?"

"Yep. Mum was only able to get one dose though. Security is pretty tight around it, apparently, but they've been using so much lately it's hard for them to keep a track of it all."

"Do you think the rumours about Potter are false then, if it is so hard to get a hold of?"

"Ha! Do you really think the golden boy-who-lived couldn't get anything he wants? Little twerp could probably have twenty four hour access to the library, if he ever decided to actually study."

"Good point. So, one dose eh? Who we gonna give it to?"

"Only one choice really. I mean who else would be as good a laugh, and nobody is going to bother busting us for it, not with her."

"True. When?"

"After dinner, tonight," said Marietta Edgecomb, a nasty smirk twisting her all too-plain face. "Yes, I think it's high time little Miss Lovegood faced the truth, don't you?"


	7. True Faith

_Yes, it has been a long, long time coming. _

_Oops - accidentally lost the chapter and had to repost - Sorry_

**Veritas Oracle: True Faith**

"_The truth. It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution."_

- Albus Dumbledore - The Philosopher's Stone

"_It is Veritaserum - a Truth Potion so powerful that three drops would have you spilling your innermost secrets for this entire class to hear." _

- Severus Snape - The Goblet of Fire

#

"So?" asked Harry, barely waiting for Ron to get the door to the dorm closed.

It was very close to curfew, and he had been worried the redhead would not make it in time to avoid been caught. He should have known Hermione would make sure they got back in time though.

"So what?" asked Ron, the goofy grin on his face painting a picture a thousand words could not do justice.

"Went well then, eh?" asked Harry, his own grin threatening to split his face in two. "Your little heart-to-heart with Hermione."

"Dunno what you are talking about," said Ron, fighting to suppress his smile, and losing.

"Mate, your shirt's half off, your hair's messed up, and you've got this stupid grin on your face that I bet a week of extra potions with Snape before he lost it wouldn't get rid of."

"Not sure what you're implying," said Ron, grinning even wider as he hastily tucked his shirt back in and fumbled with his collar.

"Ron, don't make me hex you," warned Harry.

"Come on, Harry. You can't expect me to come straight up here after spending the last two hours snogging Hermione and tell you about it, can you?" asked Ron, faking seriousness.

"No way," agreed Harry. "That would be completely inappropriate and probably get us both into a lot of trouble with her if she ever found out."

"That's right," said Ron, sitting on the edge of his bed. "So it's a good thing you never asked and I never mentioned it, isn't it?"

"Yep. Right proud of the adult way we didn't discuss it, she will be," said Harry. "If she ever asks, of course."

"Of course," said Ron.

They sat smiling stupidly at each other for a moment, when a quiet knock on the door sent them leaping to their feet and into each other. Unfortunately for Ron, he came out second best in the collision, landing him on the ground instead.

"Come in," said Harry automatically, the flush of surprise making him rush his words.

"Harry?" came the quiet whisper of a female voice.

It took a moment for Harry's racing brain to place the voice. It was so out of place and unexpected, that he almost did not make the connection between the voice's owner and the beautiful Asian girl standing in the doorway of his dorm.

"Cho?" he asked. "What are you doing here? In my bedroom, I mean, ugh?"

"Harry, can I talk to you?" asked the prefect quietly.

She looked nervous, almost scared. It was not a look Harry had seen on her before. Since Cedric's murder, he had not often seen her look anything except sad. Pretty, but so very sad.

"Chang? What's going on?" asked Ron, climbing to his feet. "What do you want Harry for?"

"Please, Harry," she said, an almost pleading tone in her voice.

"Harry's not going anywhere without me knowing what's going on," said Ron.

"I'm sorry," she said, backing away. "I've made a mistake. Please, just forget it."

There were times when Harry really appreciated Ron's big-brother-like attitude, and there were times when he wanted to brain the boy with a broomstick.

"Cho!" he called, stepping forward. "What is it? You didn't come all the way up here for no reason. Don't worry about Ron, he is just being over-protective."

"Harry, you know you-"

Harry turned and shot Ron a look so cross that the other boy was momentarily taken aback.

Cho hesitated, obviously torn by indecision.

Harry decided to take a chance. Tonks was always telling him he was too timid for his own good.

"What do you need, Cho?" he asked, stepping closer to the girl.

She wasn't very tall, almost petite. There were few girls Harry could look eye to eye with, but she was one of them, and very pretty eyes they were too.

"Harry," she said. "Can you to come with me. Please."

"No way!" said Ron, moving up next to Harry. "Harry is not sneaking off after curfew with anybody, not even a Ravenclaw prefec-"

Harry's hand shot out to clamp over Ron's mouth, cutting him off. There was a pretty girl at his door wanting to get him alone, and nobody, not even Ron, was going to get in the way. Well not until the inevitable betrayal Harry knew fate had planned for him, but in the mean time, he'd take what he could.

"Sure thing, Cho," he said. "I'll just be a second."

"Ron," whispered Harry quietly after guiding Ron with him to turn their backs on the pretty prefect. "In a second I am going to take my hand off your mouth. You are going to tell me to be careful and then you are going to go to bed. If you really want, you can take the map out of my trunk and keep an eye on me, but you are not going to interfere unless you have a very good reason, otherwise I am going to make sure Aragog gets another chance to talk with you. Hagrid's been saying the old boy is feeling under the weather and might like a bit of extra company, if you catch my drift. Okay?"

Ron nodded his head, the sincerity of Harry's voice overriding is natural concern.

"Good," said Harry, taking his hand from Ron's mouth.

"Er, be careful," said Ron.

"I will," said Harry, turning back to Cho. "Just let me get my cloak and we'll be off."

Cho looked a bit confused at the mention of a cloak, but nodded her head.

It was not much later that Ron forgot about Harry and fell into a deep slumber, dreaming about a bushy haired girl with fabulous teeth and an impressive enthusiasm.

"Chang too," whispered Dean, once Ron's snoring filled the room.

"Lucky bastard," said Seamus.

"I am not going to think about it," said Neville.

They knew he was lying.

#

"...and there will come a time when the fey things of the other world, the ones that the sightless stare at with uncomprehending minds, shall rise from the twisted nether of their hidden place and claim back what was once theirs.

"Their revelation will shake those mighty foundations of knowledge; logic and reason, and so badly will the world of the unstably sane be rocked that the cracks of the unknown will rupture and spill a torrent of new birth unto the world. The wind of freshness will sweep away unto death all that is held to, and the fruits of the plants of devastation will sate even the unquenchable lust of ravens."

With that, the strange blonde girl took her seat and continued eating breakfast as if she had never stopped. Barely a second passed before the noise level of the great hall, which had only slightly abated for the impromptu announcement, rose back to its normal rumble.

"What the hell was that?" asked Ron, his spoonful of cereal held halfway to his mouth, forgotten in the girl's dramatic pronouncements.

"Huh?" grunted Harry, not pausing from munching his toast.

"That," said Ron, waving his food in the general direction of the Ravenclaw table. "Looney Lovegood. You know, the bird you met on the train at the start of the year – Ginny's friend. What's she going on about?"

"Sorry, didn't notice anything," said Harry.

"You didn't notice somebody standing on the breakfast table spouting a load of rot that sounded like it came straight out of Trelawney's book?" asked Ron incredulously.

"Oh that," said Harry casually. "Yeah, what about it?"

"Well, what's her story, then?" asked Ron, getting increasingly frustrated at Harry's lack of interest.

"Dunno," answered Harry concentrating on his food. "But I think she might be doing it to annoy people. You know, like a joke or something."

Ron looked suspiciously at his friend, who refused to meet his eye, then shook his head and dropped his spoon back into the half empty bowl. Sometimes the weirdness of the Wizarding world was just a bit too much for even him to handle.

"Anyway," he said, deciding to let it slide, "why are looking like you've been spending nights in the forest being chased by Hagrid's spider pets? Blimey, you didn't really take Hagrid up on his request and go comfort that monster, did you?"

"No, _they've_ been putting me through the wringer," said Harry, rubbing his forehead. "It seems like I barely get a second to myself lately. Between studying for O.W.L.s and _that_, I've been on the go full time lately."

Ron nodded knowingly. Despite his newfound extra-circular activities, he couldn't help notice his best friend was absent from the dorms a lot more than he was present. It was unusual for Harry to mention it though, especially out in the open like they were now.

"You reckon something big is going down?" he asked, lowering his voice and leaning forward.

"I don't know, mate," said Harry. "Sometimes I don't really remember a lot of what I say, and half the time I don't understand it anyway. It's been getting worse too."

"That's not good," said Ron, his concern showing. "You said something to them? About not remembering I mean. You want to be a bit careful when it comes to your brain, especially considering how little you have to start with."

"Ha, ha," said Harry flatly. "Very funny. Yeah I did mention it, and a couple of healers did some tests too, but they haven't found anything to explain it. Best theory is that some of the, er, _stuff_ might be staying behind a bit, and it's building up in my system. The thing is, nobody has ever taken as much of _it_ as me, so nobody is really sure what might happen in the long run."

"Maybe you should take a break from it for a while?" suggested Ron. "Give your body a chance to clean it out of your system."

"Maybe, but I don't think I've got much of a choice. We've been trying a few different antidotes to see if that helps, but I've got to tell you, they're pretty rough on me. Come on, let's get there early," he said, standing up from the table.

"Yeah, okay," said Ron abandoning the rest of his meal. "We can swing past the library and collect Hermione. Poor girl feels bad about not spending as much time in there as she used to."

"Well if you didn't keep dragging her off to broom closets..." laughed Harry.

"Quit it," said Ron, taking a playful swing at Harry. "Just because that metamorph thingy turned out to be a cousin or something of yours and you aren't _'pureblood'_ enough to not mind that, don't you go cribbing my style."

"Style, what style?" laugh Harry, as he gave Ron a shove.

"Speaking of which, what's going on with Chang anyway?" asked Ron, falling into place next to Harry.

"Nothing," answered Harry quickly.

"And you still don't know what she wanted?"

"I told you, all she did was cry for twenty minutes and then run off. I've got no idea what she was on about," said Harry, unconvincingly.

"Pity," said Ron, deciding not to push. "But then you do tend to attract the nutters."

"Yeah," agreed Harry, "your sister among them, remember?"

"Yeah, ain't that the truth," laughed Ron.

As they made their way out of the room, Harry couldn't help catching a glance of the strange looking girl from before. She suddenly looked straight at him, her penetrating and unblinking stare sending a shock through him.

Then she smiled.

#

"_Who the hell gave her Veritaserum?" asked Harry angrily._

"_It was meant to be a joke," said Cho. "A practical joke. Nobody thought it would do this to her. Isn't it meant to wear off after a few hours?"_

"_What are you asking me for? I'm no bloody healer." _

"_Because you are Gryffindor's golden boy, aren't you?" asked Marietta. "You're the one who gets to use Veritaserum on anybody you want? Isn't that what happened with the Weasley girl? Who else would know more about it than you?"_

_Harry had never really talked to Marietta Edgecombe before, and he did not like what he was seeing now._

"_Oh, I don't know, maybe the goddamn nurse? You know, the expert employed to deal with things like this? Why the hell haven't you taken her to Madam Pomfrey, or to Professor Flitwick?"_

"_Because we don't have your immunity, you dolt! You can get away with anything, but we would get expelled for even thinking about some of the stuff you don't even lose points for!"_

"_Marriet-" began Cho._

"_Immunity? Are you telling me the only reason you got me here was because you think it will keep you out of trouble, not because you think I can actually help?" asked Harry angrily._

"_No, it's not like that-" said Cho, a pleading tone in her voice._

"_You? Help? Hah! You can barely hex somebody's show laces together. As if you could do anything we couldn't," said Edgecombe nastily._

"_Well at least I'm not stupid enough to feed somebody Veritaserum without knowing the correct dosage!"_

"_Oh please! We gave her the right dosage. It's not our fault she went like this on us."_

"_Please, this isn't helping-" said Cho, desperately trying to calm things down, but failing miserably._

"_Not your fault? Are you really that stuck up yourself? You stup-"_

"_Stop it! Both of you!" yelled Cho, finally giving up on staying calm. "Marietta – just shut up. Harry - listen Harry, it was my idea to ask you for help, because rumour has it that you have been involved in a lot of things to do with Veritaserum and so might know something to help. I came to you first because I don't want anybody to get into trouble, but if you can't help us, I'll take Luna to the infirmary myself."_

"_Cho-"_

"_No, be quiet, Marietta," snapped Cho._

_Harry hesitated, his mind already half way out of the door and heading back to his room, but something in Cho's voice stopped him. Something about the way she looked at him made him feel she really wanted his help, was desperate for it in fact._

_But he couldn't say why she would be._

"_Okay, I'll talk to her, but I don't think it'll do any good. I think you're just wasting time."_

"_Thank you, Harry."_

_Ignoring the sullen look on Edgecomb's face, Harry walked past the two girls and over to where Luna Lovegood sat crossed legged on the floor, talking nonstop to herself in a low mumble. Leaning in close, Harry tried to make out her speed-slurred words._

"_-But it has to be true because I believe it, and because it is true I can believe it, but it has to be true-"_

_She was repeating, barely pausing to breathe._

"_What the hell did you ask her?" he snapped at the two girls._

_Cho shot Edgecombe a glance, then answered._

"_We asked her how she can believe something that is only true to her."_

"_Huh?"_

"_This is a waste of time-"_

"_Marietta!" snapped Cho. "Please. Just be quiet._

"_Harry, I know you've met Luna before. You know how she is always going on about strange creatures that nobody else believes exist?"_

"_Yeah, it drives Hermione nuts when she does it in the library, or so I've been told," said Harry._

"_Well every now and then, a few people try to argue with her about what she believes in," said Cho, glancing quickly at Edgecombe. "You know, to try to get her to defend her ideas against logic. It's become a bit of a game in the common room."_

"_Wait, a group of you get together to argue with a girl who is obviously not all there, for a bit of fun? Nice," said Harry disgustedly._

_His opinion of Ravenclaws was taking a serious nose dive._

"_What do you lot do on weekends, torture unicorn foals?"_

"_It's not like that-"_

"_Then how the hell do you explain dosing her up then? Somebody obviously got pissed off enough with not winning your 'fun little debates' to do something pretty damn nasty," snarled Harry._

_He knew what sort of trauma the truth drug could inflict by accident. What somebody could do intentionally was scary, and he was scared._

"_Can you help or not, Potter?" snapped Edgecombe._

_For a moment Harry nearly told her to stick it somewhere her wand belonged, but Luna's whispering echoed quietly through the room._

"_It has to be true. It has to be true. It has to be true."_

_The pleading look on Cho's face tore him. He had to try. Maybe his experience with the drug would help. Maybe._

"_I'll talk to her, but I want to know just how much you bloody well gave her," he said._

"_Three drops," said Edgecombe._

"_Hippogriph turds," said Harry. "Three drops won't do this unless you kept dosing her before the last three ran out-"_

_He paused, watching as horror registered on Cho's face and Edgecombe began to look a bit sickly._

"_How many times?" he asked._

"_Three," whispered Cho. "They thought that it was one dose, in three parts. Three drops each time."_

_Harry nearly screamed in frustration and anger. _

"_I don't know what kind of idiotic books you got that information from," he said, "but she should be out cold. The only thing keeping her going is this mental loop you idiots got her into."_

"_You talk as if you know something about it," said Edgecombe accusingly._

"_What should we do?" asked Cho, ignoring her friend._

"_You two go over there in that corner and shut the hell up," Harry said, not even trying to keep the anger from his voice._

_Edgecombe opened her mouth to respond, but Cho grabbed her friend and dragged her a few paces back towards the corner. Satisfied for the moment, Harry turned and moved right in front of the distraught looking girl. She was rocking back and forth, chanting to herself. _

_He knelt down and tried to position himself where she could not help but see him._

"_Luna?" asked Harry, quietly. "Luna, do you recognise me?"_

"_Yes. You're Harry Potter. We met on the train when Ginny introduced us. I like Ginny. She is nice. A bit obsessed, but nice."_

_Harry felt a slight surge of relief at the fact Luna responded to his question. The truth drug was still working to a certain degree. That would help._

"_Yes, that's right. How do you feel, Luna?" asked Harry._

"_With my hands, usually," she replied. "Although most of my body can feel things too, I generally use my hands to feel specific things. I like to touch things. I'd like to run my toes through your hair, just to know what it feels like."_

_Harry suppressed a chuckle and tried to concentrate._

"_Are you still under the influence of the Veritaserum?" he asked._

"_Yes," she answered, "But you would not know if I was lying."_

"_What?"_

"_If I was not under the influence, and I said yes, you wouldn't be able to tell."_

"_Here we go again," mumbled Edgecombe loudly enough for Harry to hear._

_Harry's head snapped around and his hand went for his wand. An anger greater than anything he had felt so far surging through his veins._

"_Marietta!" yelled Cho. _

_Harry froze, amazed at how much he wanted to draw his wand and curse the arrogant witch, but Luna spoke again._

"_Of course, if I am under the influence, you could ask me a question that has a different answer for you than it does for me and then you would think I am lying and not under the influence, but the only way to test would be for you to take Veritaserum and-"_

"_Luna," said Harry, interrupting what he knew from experience would be a never ending answer. "Luna, did you ask yourself a question that has no truthful answer?"_

_The young girl paused, her dreamy gaze suddenly taking on a more focussed look – a look of pain._

"_Yes," she said._

_Harry sighed and rubbed his forehead. _

_As soon as he stopped asking questions, Luna would start thinking about whatever question they had asked her, and that would set her off in a loop again. The thing was Harry couldn't directly ask her what the problem with the question was without also triggering a breakdown. Overdoses were tricky, although not all that dangerous and even the normal antidote was of limited help in situations like this._

"_Ask her to tell you about all the numbers between one and one thousand," said Cho. "That will give you a break without letting her start to loop again."_

Clever_, thought Harry, even as he did as suggested. It really was a pity he was so angry with Cho._

_Luna responded right away._

"_One, which is a very lonely number, is first. A Cyclops is a creature with one eye and a dromedary is a camel with only one hump..."_

"_So what are you going to do now?" asked Edgecombe._

_Slow, very slowly, Harry stood up and turned to face the two older girls. He had a few choices, and none of them were particularly desirable. If he insisted they take Luna to the infirmary, not only would Cho and Marietta in particular get a well deserved reprimand, but Luna would be taken to Saint Mungos and get the help she needed. There really wasn't any good reasons not to, except the inevitable fall out of a student being dosed with Veritaserum._

_In his mind, Harry could just see a bunch of Ministry do-gooder idiots digging into how he was involved and upon discovering the rumours the girls mentioned earlier, probably inadvertently exposing his work against Voldemort._

_The current expert opinion was that Voldemort could possibly block Harry's truth serum driven spying, if he became aware of it._

_Another option was to possibly call in a favour from the Ministry, but there again, there was a good chance something would get out and threaten the system he and Tonks had painfully worked on for months._

_No, the only option was to deal with it himself, the way he had always done._

"_You two are going to sneak out of the castle and go down to the Hog's Head in Hogsmead, while I stay here with Luna."_

"_What?" asked Cho._

"_What for?" ask Edgecombe at the same time._

"_You are going to take every knut you have and buy the best bottle of Firewhisky they have, and a case of Butter beer too while you are at it."_

"_Whiskey?" asked Cho, dumbfounded._

"_Is that how it works, Potter? You'll help us out but only for a price?" snarled Edgecombe. "Typical."_

"_Listen you twit," said Harry. "You asked me here to help, now do you want my help or not?"_

"_Not if it is going to cost me that much and line your pockets," said Edgecombe._

"_That's enough!" said Cho. "Harry, what do you want Firewhisky for?"_

"_To drink of course," said Harry, smiling. "After all, it's a known antidote to Veritaserum, and fair bit kinder than some of the other ones."_

"_Whiskey? An antidote? What kind of an idiot are you, Potter?" asked Edgecombe._

"_The kind that is going to save your arse, apparently," answered Harry. _

"_Are you serious?" asked Cho. "Firewhisky is an antidote to the most powerful truth drug in the world?"_

"_Any alcohol, actually," said Harry. "But Firewhisky gets people drunk pretty fast and works better because of its magical nature, and we don't really have a lot of time to play around with here."_

"_You are going to get her drunk, to cure her Veritaserum overdose," laugh Edgecombe in obvious disbelief. "What a load of tripe."_

"_I don't give a rat's arse what you think, Edgecomb," said Harry. "Just so long as one of you gets enough grog into Luna and talks to her for a few hours, she should recover just fine. If you don't like that idea, just take her to Madam Pomfrey, like you should have done to begin with."_

_Edgecombe got a foul look on her face, but didn't answer, and Harry knew that taking the poor victim of her prank to Pomfrey was the last thing the aggravating girl wanted to do._

"_Well, Cho?" he asked. "What's it going to be?"_

_Cho hesitated just long enough for Luna's voice to drift over to them._

"_Twenty seven is a rather odd number, even though it is divisible by 9, because I don't really know anything special about twenty seven. I guess that is something special about it, so it doesn't really fit into that category anymore-"_

"_Okay," said Cho, immediately raising a hand to forestall Edgecomb's objection. "If you are really sure it will work, then we'll do it, but you have to be really sure."_

"_Trust me," said Harry, having been overdosed by his Aurora cousin on many occasions in order to delve deeply into the truths hidden in his scar connection. "The alcohol gets in and messes with your memory. It disrupts the Veritaserum and makes you remember things wrongly, or differently anyway. An expert obliviator can do the same thing, but I can't, and there is no way in hell I am going to let either of you try something that could mess with her head anymore than you've already done. "_

_Both girls stared at him, either refusing to believe, or just dumbfounded by his statement. It didn't matter either way._

"_Oh, and make sure you bring extra glasses," he said. "After all, nobody should drink alone."_

_What he really meant was nobody should have to suffer the hang-over alone, especially if they had done nothing to deserve it, but the _truth_ was he was feeling just a little bit vindictive right now, and while he had some spare hangover cure potions for Luna and maybe Cho, there was no way Edgecombe was getting any._

#

Harry sat down on the edge of his bed and yawned. He had been feeling strange all day, with his emotions fluctuating badly. He knew it was likely because of something Voldemort was doing, but it didn't make it any easier to control, or live with. So he decided to go to bed early and try to catch up on the sleep his ongoing late nights were depriving him of.

"Going to bed early?" asked Neville.

"Yeah," said Harry. "Feeling a bit crook, actually. How about you? Seems a bit early for you to be hitting the sack."

"That's not good," said Neville. "Me? I'm worn out. I went to see my parents today with my Gran – that always leaves me tired. I'll probably just read for a while first though – it kind of helps take my mind off things."

While Harry didn't spent a lot of time with Neville, they talked one day after the fate of Neville's parents came out during one of Harry's 'intelligence sessions'. He wasn't really sure why he had felt it necessary to say something to his shy roommate, but they were a lot closer after Neville had the chance to share his story.

The door to the Harry's dorm room burst open unexpectedly, causing Neville to almost fall off his bed.

Harry fared slightly better, having only just sat down to start taking his shoes off. He merely threw himself backwards and scrambled for his wand.

"Harry!" yelled Ron, crashing into the room so quickly that his shout and the crash of the door were almost indistinguishable. "Have you heard?"

Harry came to his feet, wand in trembling hand.

"Whoa there, mate," said Ron, raising his hands up.

"What the bleeding hell do you think you are-"

"Harry!" yelled Hermione, shoving her way passed Ron. "Have you heard – why do you have your wand out?"

"What?" yelled Harry, the adrenaline kicking his voice up a decibel. "Have I heard what?"

A sudden commotion behind Ron pushed the boy and his girlfriend further into the room as two more redheads forced their way in.

"We were just listening-"

"To the wireless-"

"And guess what we heard?"

"We heard it too," said Ron. "Unbelievable, isn't it?"

"Heard what?" Harry almost screamed in frustration.

"Oi, Potter. Get your stuff together right quick now – you don't want to be late do you?" asked Tonks, squeezing her way between the two lanky Weasley twins, who didn't seem at all put out by a pretty young lady wearing Aurora robes elbowing them aside.

"Late? Late for what?" yelled Harry, his voice getting even louder.

"Haven't you lot told him yet?" asked one of the twins.

"That's a bit cruel," added the other, shaking his head in mock disgust. "Funny, but cruel."

"We were just about to when you interrupted us," said Hermione indignantly.

"Somebody tell me what the bloody hell is going on!" Harry yelled, "Or I am going to take this wand and stick it up somebody's-"

"Mr Potter!" came the strict tones of Professor McGonagall through the crowded doorway.

"Going to cop it now, Harry," said one of the twins moving aside to make way for the Head of Gryffindor.

"Such language is not to be tolerated, not even in these extraordinary circumstances," she said. "Now kindly lower you wand and then myself and Aurora Tonks will escort you to the Headmaster's office."

"Please, professor," said Harry, using every bit of his self control to keep his voice normal. "What is going on?"

"You haven't heard?" she began to ask, almost causing Harry to lose his temper again.

"It's him!" interrupted Ron. "He-who-must-be-named. They've caught him!"

#

"Is it true?" asked Harry the moment he set foot in the Headmaster's office. "Did they catch him?"

Dumbledore turned from where he stood in front of the huge fireplace, a pot of floo powder in his hand.

"True?" asked the old man smiling. "You of all people, Harry, should know by now that truth is often a matter of opinion."

For a moment, Professor Dumbledore's words struck Harry as some sort of rebuke for his involvement in the war against Voldemort, but he chose to ignore it.

"Do they still have him or not?" he asked.

"Indeed," answered Dumbledore. "It does appear that Voldemort was apprehended, and you have been invited to watch his trial, which is being held almost immediately – a feat unprecedented in the history of the Ministry. I would hazard a guess that the Minister is anxious to see justice done before any sort of a rescue may be attempted."

He started to hold out the container of floo powder towards Harry, but hesitated just before Harry could reach in and grab a pinch.

"Are you sure you wish to do this, Harry? To face him once more? Nobody would look poorly upon you if you choose not to. The Minister made it very clear that you are not required to be there, but believes you have the right, if you choose to."

There was no hesitation on Harry's part.

"Yes sir," he said. "I am certain. That man, no that _thing _needs to be put down. I want to see him answer for his crimes."

Dumbledore frowned.

"I feel I must warn you that you may not hear the answers you are expecting, or gain any satisfaction from this."

"I know," said Harry, "but I want to go anyway. I _have_ to go."

A gentle smile, one that contained more than a hint of pride graced the old man's face.

"Then let us proceed with all haste," he said, holding out the contained again. "I imagine it will be somewhat chaotic in the Ministry tonight, and our presence will likely stir up even more attention and excitement. I advise you to try not to say anything, though, as the press is notorious for overplaying even the most innocent of statements."

Harry nodded and dipped his hand into the pot, coming out with the required pinch of powder.

Dumbledore took his own pinch and placed the pot back on the mantle.

"Come, my boy," he said. "Let us see this thing ended."

#

The roar of excited conversation inside the massive courtroom was blessedly quiet after the near riot filling the rest of the Ministry. Dumbledore's presence ensured an uncontested path through the throng in the foyer, but Harry had never seen anything like it. Not even the world cup was as chaotic or as noisy.

He was quite impressed that the Aurors were managing to keep the bloodthirsty crowd from tearing the place apart in their eagerness to see Voldemort 'hang'.

Reporters yelled questions at Dumbledore and Harry, demanding answers and vying for a word to give them a scoop, right up to the very gates of the elevator that swept them along a meandering path to one of the deeper levels of the Ministry.

The number of checkpoints and guards along the path to the court room also impressed Harry. Minister Diggory was apparently not taking any chances. Harry even had to hand over his wand, despite being accompanied by Dumbledore, who was not asked to give in his.

Entering through the heavy doors, Harry found himself inside a horribly familiar room. This was the very same room he witnessed in Dumbledore's Penseive, the room where Barty Crouch Junior and the Le Stranges were sentenced to life imprisonment.

Swept up in the ghastly memories, it took a moment for him to register when Dumbledore explained they would not be sitting together, as the head of the Wizengamot had to sit with the other judges. A moment of panic left his heart beating a tattoo inside his chest even as the familiar 'natural' form of Tonks led him away to a seat next to Mad-eye Moody.

By the time he was seated in a row to the side of the court room, Dumbledore was sitting in one of the seven seats directly in front of the chair Crouch had occupied in the memory. He nodded to Harry, reassuring him.

Nobody sat in the chair at the centre of the room yet, and Harry found himself almost sick with nervous excitement.

They had been waiting only a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity.

Suddenly, a man sitting in front of the long bench and wearing golden robes rose from his seat and fired a loud blast from his wand into the air, causing all noise to subside.

"All rise for His Honour, Minister Diggory," shouted the Auror.

As they stood, the Minister entered the room from a door behind the centre benches and briskly moved to the empty spot next to Dumbledore.

As soon as he was seated, everybody else sat down too.

"Bring in the accused", announced the Minister.

With a loud bang, a set of doors on the other side of the chamber to Harry opened; the corridor beyond shrouded in a veil of darkness.

Immediately the noise of the chamber threatened to rise into a roar as everybody turned or stood to watch. They fell silent as two red-robed Aurors marched in, wands held out and eyes very alert.

Behind them marched two more Aurors, and between them, with hands and feet bound by thick chains, limped the Dark Lord.

A wave of murmuring and sharply indrawn breath swept the gallery as Voldemort made his way in, supported under each arm by the Aurors on either side. Despite everybody having seen his picture in the paper and on wanted posters dozens of times, nobody who hadn't already seen him in person was prepared for his horrible visage.

To Harry, Voldemort did not look well. He was trying to walk with his usual arrogance and casual grace, but Harry could see the pain in each step, possibly caused by the chains binding him and the injuries he likely received during his capture - It was doubtful he came 'peacefully'.

It was then that Harry noticed there were no manacles on the chains; the links were driven into Voldemort's very flesh at his wrists and ankles.

Two more Aurors marched in behind the captive, keeping their wands and eyes trained on the Dark Lord as if they expected him to try something any second and were ready to respond with force. The door closed behind these last two Aurors, coming together with a very loud and final seeming clang.

Silently, the audience watched as Voldemort was escorted to the sole empty seat in the middle of the floor, and made to sit. More chains shot out of the ground and latched around him, pinning his arms and legs and even snaking around his chest to hold him securely in place. The Aurors then moved away, but kept their wands pointing at the captive.

The Minister started speaking again, but Harry didn't hear him. He couldn't take his eyes away from the face of Voldemort, despite the pain suddenly spearing his forehead.

The man, no, he wouldn't call it that, the beast, looked calm and arrogant, but Harry could feel its anger, and a surprising underlying fear.

That almost made Harry smile.

"Administer the Veritaserum."

Harry wasn't sure who gave the command, but it snapped him out of his contemplation.

Another Ministry official stepped forward, this one looking decidedly nervous at approaching the dark lord.

For a moment Harry wondered what they would do if Voldemort refused to drink it. Would they force his mouth open and pour it in? It'd be pretty hard to hold his nose until he swallowed. Or maybe they had a spell to make him drink it, like the Imperius curse or something.

In the end the point was mute, as Voldemort obligingly opened his mouth and almost eagerly took his three drops.

"What is your name?" asked a man Harry assumed was a prosecutor or something equivalent.

"Voldemort," said the Dark Lord.

A ripple of whispered conversation ran through the crowd. Tom Riddle's name was well known since Minister Diggory began his campaign. One of the major blows to Voldemort's cause was his sordid history as a bitter and spiteful half-blood.

Harry was about to ask Mad-eye how the Dark Lord could be bypassing the Veritaserum, but the question died on his lips when he happened to look up and see the look on Dumbledore's face.

It was one of profound sadness.

"What is the name you were given at birth and used until changing it?" asked the Prosecutor.

Voldemort appeared to be fighting the answer, but eventually he could no longer resist.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle," he said through clenched teeth.

Nodding to himself in satisfaction, the Prosecutor then began reading the charges.

"Have you performed, or ordered performed, the act of murder?"

"Yes," said Voldemort.

Murmurs again rang through the audience, but died quickly as the prosecutor asked the next question. Harry expect some clever wording in order to prevent any possible misunderstanding or twisting of the meaning, the way he had seen lawyers on TV do, but it seemed the use of Veritaserum made things a bit simpler.

"Name the people you have personally murdered, or ordered to be murdered," said the Prosecutor.

Voldemort began reciting a list of names, a very long list of names. After the first dozen, the outbursts from the gallery grew silent, the horror of what they were hearing overwhelming them. Quiet sobs still punctuated some of the names as people were reminded of loved ones the monster in front of them had destroyed.

"Lily and James Potter," said the Riddle, breaking the numbness Harry had settled into at hearing the names, many of which he remembered from his visions.

"Easy lad," whispered Mad-eye, seeing his sudden movement.

"Cedric Diggory," said Voldemort.

Harry couldn't help looking at the Minister, whose stony expression barely flickered at the mention of his son's name.

And the list went on.

Eventually he ground to halt and even the prosecutor appeared to be shaken by the length of the answer. The audience were sitting in shock.

"In light of the seriousness and number of these crimes, I see no need to read out the remaining charges," said the prosecutor. "This list was recorded by a dictation quill during the initial Veritaserum interrogation after the accused was arrested and brought to the Ministry."

He held up a partially unrolled parchment in front of Voldemort.

"Do you recognise this list as the list of crimes you confessed to while under Veritaserum?" he asked.

"Yes," said Voldemort.

The prosecutor turned to face the Minister and other officials sitting in the high benches.

"Minister," he said. "There is no more to be said except to assign the punishment, which we all know must be death."

A rumble of agreement greeted the pronouncement.

Diggory looked tired, as if he was emotionally worn out.

"Will anybody speak in defence?' he asked the chamber.

To the shock of most of the audience, Harry included, Dumbledore rose.

"Dumbledore!" said Diggory.

Moody swore viciously under his breath, surprising Harry with his vehemence.

Voldemort snarled at the Headmaster, baring his teeth in hatred. Harry could feel the swelling of anger in the Dark Lord at the sight of the Headmaster.

"Since no other will stand forth, I find myself unable to allow this to pass without making some attempt to provide representation for the accused."

The chamber erupted in noise, Harry also finding himself loudly voicing discontent at the Headmaster.

Ignoring the commotion, Dumbledore slowly walked down the steps to the floor and moved to stand next to Voldemort.

Eventually, the Minister banging his gravel and shouting orders silenced the uproar.

"You will let him speak," Diggory shouted angrily at the crowd. "I might not like or agree with it, but _you will let him speak_!"

"Thank you Minister," said Dumbledore.

"I do not want your help," yelled Voldemort.

"Nevertheless, you will answer my question," said Dumbledore. "I have just one question, Tom, one that I am sure everybody here wants to know the answer to, though they may regret it.

"Why? Why did you embark on this course? Why did you turn away from what could have been a successful and rewarding role in the Magical world? Tell us, help us understand, so that we may avoid another following your path. Why?"

Everybody, Harry included, held their breath.

As Voldemort opened his mouth to answer, another voice suddenly screamed from somewhere behind Harry.

"_Avada Kedavra_"

Harry barely had time to flinch when a blinding pain hit him in the head, spearing him in the forehead, right where his scar was. His breath caught in his lungs and a stabbing pain in his chest pitched him forward out of his seat.

All around them pandemonium reined, but Harry, for a split second, was locked into a world of silence and stillness.

He was already falling when Mad-eye crashed into him, knocking him to the ground and landing heavily on top.

Then the moment was over and noise exploded back into existence.

Harry heard and felt a dozen spells fly back over his head towards the source of the killing curse, but he knew it was too late and whatever the attacker intended was done.

Heart leaping into his throat, he scrambled to get up to look to see who had been struck down. Moody held him down, swearing and cursing about having to leave his wand behind, but produced a wicked looking knife from somewhere inside his cloak.

"Stay down!" and retired Auror yelled.

People were streaming from the room, pushing passed Harry and Moody, leaping and climbing over benches to run down isles screaming and shouting in panic.

Suddenly Moody stood up, heaving Harry to his feet in the same motion.

"Go with Tonks," yelled Mad-eye, still holding Harry's arm tightly in one meaty hand while his other one waved the knife threatening at any and all. "I'll cover yer retreat."

Harry ignored the Aurors flooding in to restore order and the people rushing to get out. He saw a dozen of the red-robes forcing their way through to where the killing curse originated, but he could not see who it was at the centre.

All he really saw, before Tonks grabbed him and whisked him away, Mad-eye following closely behind snarling at anybody who got close, was Dumbledore standing silently in front of the slumped body of Tom Riddle.

He was weeping.

#

"_It's just not fair," sobbed Cho drunkenly into the cushions she had conjured earlier to make herself more comfortable._

_Harry sipped his Butterbeer and remained silent. He had taken the first few shots of fire whiskey along with them, which barely left a slight buzz in his head, and then switched to Butterbeer while the girls continued to drink the more potent alcohol. _

_It hadn't been hard to convince Luna to drink, and after about three shots the two older girls were well on their way to being 'Three sheets to the wind', as Tonks liked to put it. Four shots later they were beyond well giggly and Harry was starting to reconsider the wisdom of getting three girls drunk while alone with him._

_Luna didn't seem too tipsy, although she was swaying and had stopped 'denial looping' some time ago._

_Cho was totally out of it._

_Marietta was smashed, and quite abusive. It didn't surprise Harry to find she was a mean drunk._

"_Quit whinging," she snapped at Cho, not for the first time. "You forget I was there. I remember how you were talking about breaking up with him, before it happened, so stop trying to push that rubbish about how much you loved him and how you were meant to be soul mates!"_

"_You never know what you have until it's gone," said Luna, looking directly at Harry._

"_Shut up, Lovegood," slurred Edgecombe. "You've never been in love, so just shut up."_

"_Of course, for some people, the idea is greater than the actuality could ever be," sighed Luna, looking first at Marietta, and then at Cho. "Jealousy is a curse, lust a distraction than can be mistaken for love far too easily – as you should know, Harry – and unrequited love the stupidest tragedy of all."_

_Harry nearly choked on his beer._

"_I told you to shut up," said Edgecombe. "You don't know what you are talking about! You never know what you are talking about. You blather on about all sorts of made-up rubbish because your father says they are real, but he is mad – driven around the twist when your mum-"_

"_Hey!" yelled Harry, already angry at some of the things the unpleasant girl said._

"_-died!" finished Edgecombe. "That's the real truth, isn't it?"_

"_The real truth," said Luna, "is that you can't accept that she will never want you. That's why you hate me so much – you want to believe in your fantasy as much as I can believe in mine, but you don't have it in you -"_

_Marietta gaped, shocked to silence._

"_So you lash out at everybody, trying to make them feel as pessimistic as you are. Every night you clutch to your dreams, but you are too weak and bitter to really believe they will come true, so you cry into your pillow and pretend nothing is wrong."_

"_Shut up!" said Edgecombe quietly._

"_Luna," said Harry. "Stop it."_

"_She asked for the real truth, you know I have to answer," said Luna, turning to face him._

_Her eyes no longer had the dreamy look he first noted about her the day he met her in the train. They looked hard, and cold._

"_And there is so much truth to tell her –"_

"_Shut up," sobbed Marietta weakly. _

"_Like how she is only tolerated by most people because they want to be nice to Chang, who is only Marietta's friend because she feels it is her duty to be nice to somebody so 'un-pretty', never realising how much that faked friendship has caused Marietta to want more than just friendship."_

_Marietta began sobbing, unable to deny Luna's words and seemingly trapped by their intensity._

"_And how her mother is nothing but a low level, gossiping flunky in the Ministry who wasted her youth by getting pregnant as a teenager-"_

"_Luna, please stop," said Harry._

"_Only to find out the man she thought loved her was already married and was just using the stupid bint because he was bored with his wife. So she ended up marrying the first man that came along after that and spends most of her time giving 'little Mari' anything she wants, including illegal access to Veritaserum, to make up for the dismal failure of a mother she is."_

"_Shut up! Shut up! Shut up," screamed Edgecomb, bursting into tears and collapsing in a heap._

_Harry wanted her to stop, but she was not listening to him. Her face was growing red and her voice rising as she began yelling to stay above Marietta's increasingly loud crying._

"_Then there is the truth that Marietta's last three boyfriends have only gone out with her because she has a reputation of being easy - much like her mother before her."_

"_Luna!"_

"_Which is just as well, because she has neither the intelligence nor the drive to succeed at anything worthwhile and hides behind her bitchiness to deflect criticism of her own numerous failings."_

"_Luna, why are you doing this?" asked Harry, desperate for a way to stop her._

_Luna stopped, mouth open as Harry's question, enforced by the trace amounts of Veritaserum still in her blood, made her pause._

"_Because I came to Hogwarts expecting to be free, to have friends and wonderful new experiences, but all I found was closed, petty minded and arrogant people who torment me for believing in my dad. Instead of helping me and encouraging me, I found people like Marietta belittling and walking over me with her assumed and quite imaginary superiority. I want her to feel how she made me feel, I want her to despair the way I despair, I want her to suffer._

"_Why Harry? Because I can," she added, blinking as if surprised at her own words. "Because I want to, and because she and this whole rotten world deserve it for what their neglect does to me."_

_Not for the first time, Harry realised just how screwed up the truth really was._

#

Alone in the Headmaster's office, Harry resisted the urge to pace. Tonks had left him, apologising but insistent that he wait for the Headmaster while she returned to help sort out the mess the Ministry was in at the security breach.

"Is it done then?" asked a voice.

Thinking it was one of the portraits, Harry turned to reply, but then realised the voice came from a shelf on the side of one wall.

The sorting hat was looking at him, despite not having any eyes.

"Is he dead?" it asked. "Riddle. Is he gone?"

"I don't know," said Harry. "I think so, but I don't know how, since I thought the Snake and I were still Horcruxes – the last ones in fact."

"Pity," said the hat. "A terrible waste."

Harry could only nod in agreement. Surprisingly, the portraits were silent. Fawkes slept peacefully on his perch, leaving Harry all alone with his thoughts.

The fireplace suddenly roared to life, causing Harry to leap to his feet and draw his wand.

Dumbledore stepped out of the green flames to be greeted by Fawkes, who thrilled a short happy tune that calmed Harry's nerves and put a smile on the old man's face.

"Thank you, my friend," Dumbledore said to the amazing creature as he walked to behind his desk, "and I apologise for taking so long to return, Harry."

"So what's happened?" asked Harry.

"Tom Riddle is dead," said the Headmaster, sitting down.

"How?" asked Harry. "I mean I felt something when he was hit, but I don't know what it was."

"Nagini was killed during the battle that captured Voldemort," said the Headmaster. "And it appears the accidental Horcrux inside of you was not enough to keep him from being destroyed by a direct hit with the killing curse.

"Perhaps the fact that you have never been truly affected by it, that it was never in control of you, meant it was a very weak Horcrux. Of course, the very reason Voldemort made more than one was because all previous Horcrux owners have invariably died, meaning they are not a foolproof or even reliable method of cheating death forever - otherwise we would long ago been overran by a plague of Immortal Dark Lords."

"Are you sure?" asked Harry. "I mean are you really certain he is not going to pull another 'final going away tour'?"

"I am as certain as any man can be," answered Dumbledore. "Voldemort is truly gone."

"But what about the prophecy then? It wasn't it meant to be 'at the hand of the other'?" asked Harry.

"There is a reason why prophecies need to be treated with great caution and respect. Not every one ever made has come to pass, or at least not in a recognisable fashion. Also, as you yourself once speculated, everything that happened, that brought us to the moment somebody was able to strike Voldemort down with a killing curse, was based on information you provided and could, just possibly and with a great leap of faith, be considered 'at your hand'."

"Still, what about me?" asked Harry. "Shouldn't I have to die too? One of the very first things we found out by using Veritaserum was that I was going to have to be hit by the killing curse cast by Voldemort."

Dumbledore looked tired, more tired than Harry could ever recall him seeing, but his blues eyes sparkled with life, like he had been given a gift, a puzzle that intrigued him.

"In your various investigations, you have read many old sayings regarding the truth, both Magical and Muggle, have you not?"

"Yes," answered Harry, although he didn't understand a tenth of what he read.

"Did you ever come across the saying 'The truth is ever-changing and cannot be carved in stone'?"

"What, are you saying the Veritaserum was wrong, that the prophecy was a load of bunk, that we changed the truth or something?"

"It is a possibility that must be considered, in light of these events."

Harry sat silent for a moment. It was a lot to think about.

"Who cast it?" he asked. "The killing curse. Who was it that killed Voldemort?"

The Headmaster did not immediately answer, but instead looked at Harry as if judging what to say.

"A person who was once badly hurt by Voldemort, and swore vengeance upon him. Her name will not be released, at least not yet. There are many consequences that cannot, at this time, be foreseen, so for now she will remain anonymous."

"Is she in trouble? Will she go to Azkaban?" asked Harry.

"That is yet to be determined," said the Headmaster. "While she will certainly not be officially lauded as the executioner of Voldemort, there are many that would praise her for her actions."

"I don't understand. Why? Why would she do it and risk going to jail instead of just waiting?"

Again the Headmaster paused before answering, giving Harry the impression his words were been carefully chosen.

"It is my understanding that she felt she owed it to those she lost, to perform the deed herself," said the Headmaster. "Surely you can understand how somebody would feel that way - to believe their only choice was to take the action they had already committed themselves to?"

It was probably another not so subtle dig at him, but Harry could actually see the point the old man was making. Often enough in the past Harry had done exactly that, although the circumstances were very different. He hesitated before asking his next questions, but decided he had to.

"Sir, why did you stand up to defend him? Why did you ask him what you did? What did you think he would say?"

"Honestly, Harry, I am not sure," said the Headmaster. "I wanted to know, to hear his reasons, and although I suspect I could guess at many of the things he would say, I am not arrogant enough to believe I understand everything about him.

"I believe I hoped to find a nugget of misguided intentions, something that would allow all of us, and indeed Tom himself, to see where we went wrong, where we failed him, and he us. In the end, I wanted him to regret the choices he had made and recognise his errors.

"Truthfully, I wanted him to feel sorry for the anguish and suffering he has caused."

"But why?" asked Harry. "What good would it have done? You can't believe he would turn around and say 'Oops, sorry everyone' and then we'd all say 'That's okay, off you go'? It was always going to be the Dementor's kiss for him, wasn't it?"

A sad smile formed on the Headmaster's face.

"Alas, Harry, I could only hope that we would all one day be that enlightened, but no, I did not expect redemption for his actions, or enough pity to avoid the ultimate punishment he was bound to receive."

"You're not telling me everything, are you?" asked Harry. "There's more, isn't there, like why you were crying after he was dead?"

"Yes, my boy, there is much more, but it is not relevant, and the rest can wait until you are older and better able to understand."

Harry bristled for a moment, angry at the Headmaster's avoidance. Reaching into his pocket, he took out the small vial of Veritaserum he never left anywhere else, and placed it on the desk in front of them.

"Would you be willing to prove that?" he asked.

The Headmaster's eyes dropped to the bottle.

"I am saddened to see our relationship has deteriorated so badly," said Dumbledore. "Would you truly ask me to do this, rather than take my word?"

"I've learned the truth can be pretty slippery," said Harry. "Sometimes people think they know it, only to find out it's very different to what they expected. If you had trusted me more last year and told me everything, Cedric might not be dead."

Dumbledore didn't deny it.

"Possibly true," he said, looking at Harry over the top of spectacles, "but if he had not been murdered, who knows what state the world would be in now? Do you not recall Cornelius denying your claims of Voldemort's return? Would he have dedicated the resources to rooting out Voldemort and his minions that Minister Diggory has? Do you think anybody would have thought to try using the truth serum on you to see if you could access Voldemort's innermost thoughts?

"No, Harry, we cannot dwell on what might have been, but only move forward, doing the best we can with the knowledge we have."

Harry wanted to argue, to yell at the old man and his 'holier than thou' attitude, but he suddenly found himself tired, exhausted in fact. It was all a bit too much, and he was sick of it all – the lies and half truths, the twisted and convoluted thinking people did to justify themselves – He'd had enough.

"Can I tell the others," he asked, "about the trial and the rest of it? I mean everybody is going to ask me about it, and why I was allowed to go."

"Much of the news has already been broadcast on the wireless and will no doubt be in every paper," answered the Headmaster. "If people do not already know, they will surely do so soon."

"So is that a yes or a no?" asked Harry a bit testily.

"Yes, Harry," said the Headmaster. "While I believe there are still many things you should not divulge to everybody, I trust that you will make the right choices in telling them about your involvement and what you have seen."

Harry stood up to leave, the weight of the events sitting heavily on his shoulders, but he had one more question that he couldn't let go.

"Sir," he asked hesitantly. "Why do _you_ think he did it? I mean, why do _you_ think he became what he did? Was it really because of his father?"

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and sighed.

"I truly cannot say with any certainty," he said. "I suspect much of his motivation came from his unfortunate childhood, of being neglected and abused, but in the end, I think he believed he had the right to do as he wished – that because nobody could stop him, he should be allowed to indulge his baser desires.

"He did it, Harry, because he felt we deserved it, but mainly, he did it because he could."

The echo of Luna's sentiment sent an unexplained shiver down Harry's spine. Nodding, Harry turned to leave the office, not at all sure he really understood.

"Here," said Dumbledore, tossing the small vial to him. "You may wish to have this, for when you once again wish to seek out the truth."

"The truth," laughed Harry humourlessly as caught the little bottle. "I am pretty much sick of the truth."

"It is a precious thing, not one to be despised or wasted."

"It's an angry witch with a broomstick, waiting to hit you on the back of the head when you're not ready," countered Harry.

"That too," agreed the Headmaster.

Harry left the office and made his way down the spiral staircase, lost in thought and not paying much attention to where he was going.

Finding Ginny waiting for him near the stairs leading to the Gryffindor common room was completely unexpected.

"I want you to dose me again," she said. "I swear I am going to be a better person, but I need you to test me, to prove I am getting there -"

Strangely, looking at the nervous girl almost pleading with him, Harry felt lighter, happier.

"You know what?" he interrupted, dropping his arm around the younger girl's shoulders and starting to lead her away. "Screw it. I really don't care anymore. Let's just give it a try and see how it goes, all right?"

Shell shocked, Ginny could only nod in mute acceptance. She was too distracted and confused to notice as he tossed a small vial into a nearby bin.

"Mind you, if I think you're beginning to go all fan-girl on me, or I start to get vibes about wanting me to cark it so you can cash in, don't expect me not to say something," he said with mock sincerity.

"Git," said Ginny, smiling as she lightly elbowed Harry in the ribs. "What about using you for fame? Is that okay?"

"Yeah okay," said Harry.

"Really?" asked Ginny, caught off guard and very surprised by the answer to her attempted joke.

"No," laughed Harry.

"You prat," she laughed before getting a sly grin and a slight blush. "What about your body then? Can I use that?"

Harry turned a bit red too, but wasn't ready to be teased that easily.

"So long as it's not for potion ingredients," he agreed.

They walked away with their happy laughter and light banter echoing through the hallways, Harry making sure to keep the small talk going for as long as possible before the inevitable interrogations started back in the common room with the others.

Neither of them saw the squinty eyes watching them suspiciously from the darkened alcove, nor did they see the owner of those eyes rummage through the bin until he lifted out the very same small vial Harry had just discarded.

A tiny amount of liquid remained, less than a dozen drops glinting in the glittering light of the torches lining the hallway.

"Well, well, well," said Filch, absently leaning down to pat the mangy cat rubbing against his leg. "What do we have here then?"

_**Finite Incantatem.**_

_**A.N.**_

_While this chapter may strike you as very different from the style of the previous ones, it is actually something like what I intended two years ago when I started writing this. Bitch!Luna didn't want to play though, and took a long time to come around - even then, she isn't as nasty as I intended. _

_I could have gone through every character in the HP series, but it would have gotten very repetitive._

_Sorry if you were expecting a Nonjon-like Zany!Luna but you really should have known better._

_Thanks for reading, and thanks to AFC yet again for helping get this done._

_**Oh, and don't forget to check out the collection of original short stories by some of your favourite fan fic authors - but not me, I was still suffering writers block :(**_

_**amazon .com /Horror-Humor-Heroes-Fantasy-ebook/dp/B004G08Z9I/ref=sr_1_8?ie=UTF8&m=AG56TWVU5XWC2&s=books&qid=1292177728&sr=1-8**_


End file.
